


Uncle Matthew

by shutupyacunt



Series: Pacific Northwest Girls [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abusing Your Caddy Because Bitch be Existng, America the Oblivious, But only when it comes to Oregon and Washington, Canada is not Innocent, Canada the Merciless, Cats, Children Using Foul Language, Denmark Has an Eternal Crush on Washington, France has a Crush on Oregon, Golfing, Hijinx, Humor, Ice Cream denial, Idaho is Glad he is Not Biologically Related to Washington, Latvia has a stockpile of different drugs, Mentions of The Even More Awesome Trio, Multi, Oregon is the Queen of Upspeak, Oregon knows Everything, Playing Hooky, Pranks, Romano is Over Protective, Russia can't Handle the Truth, Shenanigans, Smartass Kids, Smoking, There is no Adulting Here, These girls are troublemakers, Uncles and Nieces - Freeform, Underage - Freeform, Violence in Sports, Washington is a Bad Role Model, Washington is a Sore Loser, Washington the Stealthy, Why are France and Denmark even There, alcohol use, antics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24638353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupyacunt/pseuds/shutupyacunt
Summary: We go back in time a bit as Canada agrees to mind Oregon and Washington while America travels.  It becomes a thing.  Through the years, many shenanigans take place.
Relationships: Denmark/Washington, France/Oregon, Implied Past South Italy/Washington, implied America/England - Relationship
Series: Pacific Northwest Girls [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781455
Kudos: 14





	1. A Day Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little!Washington and Uncle Matt at the beach.

1911

"Promise me you'll be a good girl, now," America said, kissing Washington on the top of her head. "Don't forget to put on sunscreen when you go down to the beach. Mattie, I picked up an extra bottle of sunscreen. She burns so easily. Are you sure you don't mind doing this?"

"Of course not, Al," Canada laughed. "I understand that these things happen. But," he added, lowering his voice, "how did Oregon get the whole eraser up her nose? I hope they don't have to break it to get it out."

"She'll be fine," America laughed back. "Okay, we'll see you tonight."

"Bye Pop!" Washington shouted, pushing America out the door. He looked around in surprise as he began to slide across the threshold. Washington bore down on him and shoved as hard as she could. "Now...go," she grunted, finally getting him to the car. She was breathing hard, but not winded. In the car, Oregon was whooping in delight at her sister's display of strength.

Well now, Canada thought, this is interesting. 

Washington ran back to him and grabbed his hand. "They're finally leaving," she shouted. "Okay, let's go to the beach!"

"Wait just a minute, Katie," Canada said firmly, "let's wave them goodbye." He turned her towards the driveway and smiled through clenched teeth as he poked her hard in the back to get her to wave more enthusiastically. She looked over her shoulder as America drove away.

"Okay, they're gone now," she said pointedly. "Now let's go!" She ran into the house and shoved the go-bag at him, then raced upstairs to get something from her room. She came back down holding a metal box.

"Katie, what is that?" he asked, unsure if he really wanted to know. 

"It's my secret box!"

Canada made her hold his hand for the entire walk down to the beach. On the way there, they passed the park with the concession stand and the benches that were always loaded with teenaged kids.

"Hey, mister," Washington said, stopping in front of the bench nearest the concession. "Would you please give me a dollar to put in my bank?"

The first kid sitting on the bench gave her three dollars, but when she came to the next kid, he pulled the bandana from his mouth and smirked at her. "You want me to give you a dollar? How old are you, kiddo?"

Washington smiled proudly. "Four hun--"

Canada kicked her.

"Five years old," Washington corrected herself, shooting Canada a venomous look.

"Haha, okay, I'll give you a dollar," the young man said. "You're a cute kid. I'll give you a dollar if you sing me a song."

"Give me a dollar first," Washington countered.

"Oh, you're more than five, go on," the boy said, irritably. "Quit bugging me."

Washington scoffed. "Well, I don't care," she announced, giving the boy a haughty look. "I've got fifty dollars in my bank already."

"Wait," the kid said, glancing around. Canada realized that he didn't see he was standing right there. "You have fifty bucks in that box, little girl?"

"Yes."

He grabbed at her, and Canada gasped, moving quickly to pull her back, but Washington had the situation in hand. As soon as he put his hands on the box, she let out a shrill yell. People nearby stopped to look, and the boy let go, but as soon as they went back to their business, he grabbed at it again. Washington tightened her grip on her money box and squalled again. The boy grunted in surprise when he realized that he couldn't pry the box away from her.

"What's going on here?" the game warden finally came around again. "Young lady, is this boy bothering you?"

Canada knew he couldn't allow this to escalate. "Katie, stop harassing people," he scolded. "No, it's fine. He didn't do anything. Katie, right now. Come on." He led her away, but she looked over her shoulder and gave the kid a mean smile, sticking out her tongue. His friend had to grab him to keep him from lunging at her.

"Hey, it's a little girl," he exclaimed. 

"No she fucking isn't," the boy panted. "Lookit her mean face!"

Washington laughed.

"Katie!" Canada scolded. "Enough. Leave him alone."

They found a spot on the sand and Canada spread the blanket out. For the next half hour he watched as Washington played with another little girl. They collaborated on a gigantic sand castle. Finally Canada felt himself relax. This wasn't so bad. He leaned back and shut his eyes, but no sooner had he done that, the other little girl burst into tears.

"Uh-oh! Here comes the horseman of the Apocalypse," someone shouted. Canada's eyes flew open and he sat up. The kid from the bench was trampling through the completed sand castle, laying it waste. "Oh no! How d'ya like me now, you litt--"

Before he could finish his tirade, Washington led her little friend out of her path and charged him. Bellowing, she slammed into his knees, knocking him flat on his back with a teeth-rattling thud. She did not waste a single moment and was upon him in an instant, whaling on him with her small, deadly fists.

"You asshole!" she yelled, as the other beachgoers began to crowd around. "You son of a bitch! You!" Punch. "Ruined!" Punch. "Our!" Punch, punch. "Sand!" Punch, punch, punch. "Castle!"

Just as she began to throttle him with her bare hands, Canada grabbed her up and hauled her back. The warden was speeding towards them, but he was on horseback because you couldn't drive on the beach, so he was still a good distance away. As Washington struggled to get back to her ass-whooping task, Canada began to drag her towards their blanket. By the time the warden reached the injured teen, Canada had already gotten everything packed up and they were quickly getting the hell out of there. Somehow they made it off the beach without being seen.

"Katie, what on earth were you thinking? You can't do that! You're supposed to be five years old, remember? And you can't go around beating the hell out of people. I'm disappointed in you, Katie." He frowned, but then he heard her sniffle and stopped.

"He ruined my friend's sand castle," she said, angry tears streaking her face. "He made her cry and then laughed about it. He was mean, Uncle Matt."

Canada knelt down and took her damp face in his hands. "Is that why you did that? Oh, Katie," he sighed, hugging her to him. "That was a very noble thing to do, but you need to remember your temper, chérie. We can't have people spreading rumors about a little girl who can knock down someone more than twice her size!"

Hiccupping, Washington dried her eyes with her fists. Canada looked at her with a crooked little smile. "Well, it doesn't look like the game warden is coming after us," he told her, "so how about we go have some ice cream?" 

She nodded, her breath hitching. "Okay."

"And we won't say anything to your daddy about this," Canada promised. Although that was more for his own sake than hers. The last thing he needed was for his brother to think he couldn't handle one afternoon alone with her.

"Hey," he said as they ate their cones, "just how much money is in that box? People were giving you money all day." 

"Hmm. I don't know," Washington mused. "Maybe a hundred bucks now. There was fifty, before today. I want to spend the money when we go to Europe next month. By then I should have ten times that much!" She glanced over and saw his hand creeping towards the box. "Hey! Uncle Matt, don't be a dick!"

He began to laugh. "Oh, Katie, I'm kidding. I don't want your money. But you're going to have to let me open it so I can add to it."

Her face lit up. "Really?"

"Yes," Canada said, as they continued on their way to the house. "All you have to do is not tell anyone about what happened at the beach and I'll give you a hundred dollars."

She hugged him, giggling with delight. "I won't say anything! I promise. You're the best, Uncle Matt!"

He smiled, and over her little shoulder he finally caught sight of the boy she had brawled with on the beach. He was walking with two other teens, one who had been with him on the bench and the other Canada hadn't seen before. The battered boy saw them and gave them an angry gesture.

"That's the little shit I was telling you about," he shouted. His friends stared over at them. The one Canada hadn't seen before said something, and the boy yelled back, "No! Not the guy, the kid!"

Both his friends exploded into gales of laughter. As he stood there humiliated, he glared over at Washington, who waved.

Canada got her the hell out of there.


	2. Terror Sisters Meet World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Time for World War One...

1914

"Al, you just don't get it," Canada said, angrily pacing the front porch. "Austria and Hungary have got this Germany fellow on their side, and I know a lot of his citizens are in your country but he's dangerous! You can't just sit back and watch it happening!"

"Mattie," America sighed, and ran his hands through his hair. "I get that it's bad over there. I really do. I just...I just don't want to get involved in something like this. Look, it's not just that Germany has lot of people over here, but it's his brother too. Prussia has been my ally since my fight with England. I can't just say 'okay, don't do that, looks like I'm gonna have to kick your ass'. What has he done to me?"

"I'm your brother, Al! He's trying to kill me!"

"Only because you're chained to England," America insisted. "Mattie, I can't. Believe me, I wish it were that simple. But my boss wants me to stay out of it too."

"Stay out of what?"

Both men jumped and turned quickly to see Washington standing in the doorway. She had a drink in her hand that looked suspiciously like whiskey.

"Katie, what are you doing still awake?" America demamded, taking the drink from her and sniffing it. "Whiskey! What have I told you about that? You are supposed to be five years old."

Washington rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Now what's going on out here? Who's trying to kill Uncle Matt?"

"Nobody," America said quickly. Washington narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Now off to bed with you." He tried to lead her back inside, but she bore her feet down against the wooden floor. "Stop that! Go...in!"

"N...no," Washington grunted, grabbing onto the support beams. "Who's hurting...Uncle...M...Matt?"

America set his jaw and pulled as hard as he could. Washington still wouldn't let go, and the beams began to crack. Immediately, America released his hold on her. Canada shook his head in amazement. "Al, just tell her," he said. America bit his lip, and Canada could have sworn he saw something akin to fear in his brother's eyes.

"Mr. Germany," he said finally. Washington's eyes widened. 

"Isn't he Pr--Mr. Prussia's little brother?" She hadn't met Prussia yet, but Canada knew she had heard of him. He had many citizens in her land already, nearly as many as Denmark. "Why would he want to do that, Uncle Matt?"

Canada sighed. "It's complicated."

Washington frowned. 

"Well, my Papa is angry with him, and England has promised to support Papa, so I have to do for King and Country and help out," Canada explained. "Therefore Germany has taken issue with me."

"That's not complicated," Washington shrugged. 

"Katie, there's more to it than that," America began.

She turned to him. "What do you know about it? You're over here telling him that you don't want to help out. Pop, I'm disappointed in you."

"Katie," Oregon shouted from inside the house. After a few minutes she appeared in the doorway. "What are you doing out here? You were supposed to come right back."

Washington smirked. "Yeah, I said that, but someone's trying to kill Uncle Matt."

"What?" Oregon exclaimed, nearly tearing the door off its hinges. "Who's trying to kill him?"

Washington sneered. "This _kid_ named Germany," she said. "I guess he's Prussia's little brother."

"Girls," America began.

"How long is your furlough?" Oregon asked. "Can we go back to France with you?"

"Absolutely not!" America roared. "You girls are not getting all tangled up in that mess over there. You wouldn't know the first thing about it."

Oregon and Washington exchanged a sly look. "Well, I know that Austria is a little bitch," Washington pointed out. "Mr. Denmark said so."

America clenched his teeth. "You better not be corresponding with Denmark behind my back, Katie. You know I'm to read all your letters first." 

"I think Mr. Denmark is nice," Oregon said, in defense of her sister. Canada wisely remained silent. He knew very well that Denmark and Washington were exchanging letters, because they used him as a go-between. Washington might be a little one, but she was no slouch. She knew America would disapprove, mainly because Denmark was of age and she wasn't, even though she really had been around nearly as long as he had. But there was nothing but sincere friendship in the letters, and if America happened to read one he would not have been offended. 

America tried one last time to get his wilful child through the doorway. "Katie, it is getting very late," he said, firmly. "Both of you have no business still playing around up there. I want you both in bed now. This is grown-up talk."

Washington had finally had enough of America pushing on her. "Fine, we'll go inside," she snapped. "And since you won't let us go with Uncle Matt, then I'll send stuff over to help him. Just try and stop me, Alfred," she added, and Canada winced at the steely anger in her voice. "Nobody hurts Uncle Matt and gets away with it. Right, Daria?"

Oregon nodded firmly. "Right. I'm helping too."

America sighed, but he was smiling. "Well, I can't say that I don't appreciate it," he said. "Just, ah--well, you'll see. Now off to bed with the both of you."

Before he could herd them through the door, Washington broke free of him and turned to Canada, hugging him briefly but tightly. Astonished, he exchanged a look with America over her head as he patted her back. Washington never hugged anyone, not even Oregon. Physical shows of affection seemed to irritate her even more than they did England, who was notorious for his grumpy behavior. Whenever he came to visit Oregon, he always ended up spending more time with Washington, and they would commiserate on the chicanerous assholery of Spain. Often they would sit in the rain for hours just to avoid everyone else. 

Sometimes Canada wondered what would happen if Washington grew up and England wanted to have more than just an economic relationship with her. She was one of the few states that weren't English-speaking from the beginning. Although she and Oregon were perceived as a pair, they weren't twins and looked nothing alike. Oregon's English origins were obvious, and her Papa still came to visit once a year at least. Washington's first settlers were significantly more exotic; Finland not only came to see her much more often than once a year but he also had a home in Deep River, which was in a valley populated with Finnish and Danish immigrants.

"Al," he said softly, as his brother sank onto the porch swing. He thought America looked stunned. "Al, you can't stop them growing up."

America blinked slowly and shook his head. "I never thought I could, Mattie. But I don't want it to happen this way. You don't know," he added. "Oregon." He sighed. "Oregon will be fine. She's so much more stable, you know? There's not much in the way of cities, and her coast is too linear. I mean, not many harbors. She's going to have a nice, steady growth. But Washington. Matt, there are already other nations that want to do business with her. Denmark ran his big mouth to Norway and Sweden so they're interested. She's got all those ports. Her fishing is already world-class and Finland's been telling me about the timber industry out in the valley--the minute I look away she's going to be unrecognizable. I know it. And...and she's not as nice as Oregon. She's such a bad influence on her! When they're together they get into so much trouble. You do know about that," he added. "If I let them go over there...it's not that I don't think they could handle it. It's not that." 

Canada hummed in understanding. "You're concerned about how they are going to interact with the other nations."

"No," America replied. "I know how it will go. They're going to meet everyone and then they will destroy them."

"Al!" Despite himself, Canada laughed.

America did not.

Canada cleared his throat. "Al, c'mon. They can't possibly."

"Maybe not Oregon," America conceded. "England did too good a job making her into a little lady. But Mattie, Washington is dangerous. I've seen what happens when she's angry. Goddamn it, if she found out what's going on over there between Denmark and Germany GO TO BED NOW, KATIE!"

The window slammed, shaking the entire house. "Fuck off," Washington shouted back.

America got up and went inside, and when he came back out he was dragging a teary-faced, angry Washington by the elbow. "Sit down now," he snapped, shoving her into Canada's lap. 

Washington glared at America while gently nestling into Canada's lap.

"Now I've told you over and over about that goddamn language," America said. "It's disrespectful and rude."

 _"You're_ disrespectful and rude," Washington retorted. "You knew that bastard was hurting Mathias!"

"Don't call him that! You know better, dammit!" America raised his voice. 

Washington bared her teeth. "I'm going over there and you can't stop me," she declared.

"You're not going anywhere," America thundered. "You are staying right here."

"I hate you!" Washington screamed. "You're not my papa and I hate you forever!"

"Oh Jesus Christ, not this shit again," Idaho sighed as he came out to see what the matter was.

Washington lunged at him, flying from Canada's lap and striking Idaho square in the face. "Shut up! Your father is terrible! He's letting everything happen and won't help!" Then she turned to America. "I hope he gets you. I hope he sinks all your ships in the ocean! And I hope everyone drowns!"

Canada tried to comfort her, but she struck him. "Don't touch me," she warned. She began to breathe heavily. "I'll hurt you."

"Katie!" America shouted, as the first tremors rolled across the earth. "Don't you dare."

"You have to help," she insisted.

"I can't!" he shouted. "I can't leave you alone here."

Washington backed away, looking for all the world as if she were going to take off into the night. "You're going to be sorry," she promised. "You will see."


	3. Speling B

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little!Oregon competes in the Spelling Bee. Uncle Mattie, of course, is there to cheer her on.

1919

"This is so exciting, Uncle Mattie," Oregon cried, hopping up and down. She and Canada were standing in line at the train station, waiting to board the Empire Builder. "Daddy never let me enter the Spelling Bee before. But I'm growing so fast now that It's probably going to be my only chance."

Canada smiled easily and patted her head. "Yes, before you know it you'll be all grown up. It happens pretty quickly sometimes. You could go to sleep one night and wake up a foot taller." He had to remember that America was teaching his children the imperial measures instead of the metric system. "Here's our train! Your sister and your pa are already waiting for us in Chicago, so they will be at the station to pick us up."

"I've really had a lot of fun with just you, Uncle Mattie," Oregon chattered, "but I miss Katie. When they left for Europe she was shorter than I am, but her last letter she said that she grew three inches!"

"It might be the food," Canada suggested. "Now that she's home again she will probably not grow so fast." But he did think it was odd that Washington would gain height so far from home. He would have to ask his brother just what they had been up to

The train was very crowded. He had been careful to book their tickets with sleeper car seating, so they would have more privacy, but Oregon was so social that it was difficult to keep track of her. He had to go looking for her several times. Finally, he found her chattering away to a little boy whose parents were cooing over her in delight. The little boy did not look as delighted, but he still couldn't stop staring at her.

"Oh, Uncle Mattie, there you are," Oregon chirped. "This is my new friend! His name is Oscar. He's going to be in the Spelling Bee too!"

Canada smiled politely. "It's very nice to meet you," he said. "Daria, it's time to eat. Why don't you invite your little friend to the dining car?" Oscar's parents seemed thrilled at the prospect of having supper with them. As they made their way down the train Oscar's father began small talk, mostly about the situation with the labor unions. 

"So what do you think about all this business about consolidating into one big organization?" he asked. "I thought it wouldn't last a decade, but here we are twenty years in."

Canada cleared his throat. "Well, I do think it's worked out for the best," he said. "You still have your locals, and they'll be governed by people living in the local, but they'll have to be accountable to the state, and so forth. That's the thing, you see? Accountability."

"I'm in the Teamsters, myself," Oscar's father said. "You?"

"Laborers," Canada replied. "Out of Surrey, BC."

Across the aisle, Oregon and Oscar were drilling each other on spelling words. Oscar's mother smiled at the children. "Your little niece is simply lovely," she said. "Oscar just turned eight this April. How old is your niece?"

Three hundred sixty, Canada thought, and smiled. "She's seven."

Oregon looked over at them. "My birthday is on Valentine's day."

Oscar's mother beamed. "Well now! Isn't that nice! Do you have any brothers or sisters? What do your parents do?"

Canada waited, holding his breath.

"I have some of each. My brothers are all older than me and my sister is younger. My brothers don't live at home anymore except for Clark but he's graduating next year so he's going away to college soon, in Boise. My daddy is a businessman," she added. "My...my mother lives in England because she works there."

"Well for Heaven's sake," the woman exclaimed. "You're very grown-up for a little girl. Will your daddy be at the Spelling Bee?"

"Yes," Oregon said. "He and my sister are already in Chicago. They just got back from Europe! They took a giant ship over to see Daddy's business friends. They went all over the place. Did you know that my sister is only five but she can speak three languages? I can only speak two. I speak French and German. Katie can speak Danish and Finnish and German! I think Finnish is hard."

"That's quite an assortment," Oscar's mother said, looking nervously at Canada. 

Oregon smiled in self-satisfaction. "Yes, it is."

While Canada was relieved that Oregon was more than capable of making a good impression, it still made him nervous when she interacted with citizens. He always had a fear that she would slip up and mention something that she wouldn't be able to explain away, such as having forty-seven brothers and sisters. He remembered the time he had taken Washington to the beach and she had brawled with a bigger boy, nearly beating him senseless. He'd barely managed to get her out of there. It didn't help things that she had continued to tease the poor kid until his father had come over demanding an apology. America had had no idea any of it had happened, so he had been completely taken by surprise. Somehow, Washington had gotten out of apologizing and the kid had ended up coming over quite a bit to play ball with her, and according to America they were great pals now.

Which presented a different problem. 

How would Washington be able to handle her little buddy growing up and leaving her behind?

As soon as the train pulled in to the station, he saw his answer. Oregon made a beeline for America, dragging Oscar with her. Washington was nowhere in sight. Oscar's parents saw America, his apparent youth, and immediately assumed the wrong thing. Oscar's mother asked him, very hesitantly, if their parents had left him in charge. America, laughing it off, assured her that he was older than he looked. Then, Oregon asked, "Daddy, where's Katie?"

"She's with..." His voice trailed off as he suddenly remembered who she was with. "Oh no!" he shouted. "Oh, damn it, I completely forgot. Uh, Mattie, could you--damn it," he sighed. Just then, a young girl, with her long red hair flying everywhere came boiling around the corner. Right behind her was a tall, well-built young man with wild blond hair. 

"Løb," the man laughed, throwing a glance over his shoulder. They blew past the little group. As they ran past the girl yelled, "Hi Uncle Matt. Hi Daria!"

"Hej!" her companion called. 

America cleared his throat. "That's Kate and Den--"

"Get back here, you hooligans!" An angry pair of police officers shouted as they gave chase. "Hey! Where'd they go?" They stopped, puffing. "Say, did you folks happen to see two troublemakers run past here?"

"No, mister," Oregon said, with wide, innocent eyes. She looked truly stunned. When Oscar's mother started to say something, Canada shook his head firmly. America shot him a grateful look. From behind the office building, Washington and her pal--who Canada now recognized as Denmark--slowly poked their heads around the corner, then sneaking across the tracks, they broke into a run once they reached the street. Both of them laughing like loons.

"She's grown," Canada said to his brother. "My God."

"Yeah, it happened while we were in Italy," America replied, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I thought you said your sister was five years old, dear," Oscar's mother said to Oregon. 

Nosy bitch, Canada thought. 

"That's her younger sister," America said quickly. "She couldn't be here because she's with her mother. No. Katie is more than five, haha, believe me."

Oscar and his parents finally cleared off, but it turned out that they were all staying in the same hotel. Washington was still missing in action, but America couldn't very well call the police to look for her because they were already looking for her.

"So what is Denmark doing here?" Canada wondered. "On business?"

"He came to see how his citizens were doing out in the Dakotas and in Utah," America told him. "And since both he and Finland have settlements in Washington, he is going to come back with us."

Canada glanced towards the open door. Oregon was still sitting on her bed in a state of shock. "Are you sure that's a good idea? He's not exactly a gentleman."

America snorted. "Washington is no delicate flower," he informed his brother. "You know."

"Well, I--"

"Jesus Christ, I thought those bastards would never get off our ass," Washington announced as she burst into the room. Canada stared at her in amazement. She had changed so much in just a year that she looked like a completely different person. She had boarded the boat in New York looking like a five-year old child and had returned nearly grown, perhaps fifteen. She was absolutely beautiful, but he could see that America was quite right about her not being delicate. Oregon would probably grow up retaining her ladylike mannerisms, he thought, but not this one.

"Fuck, I'm starving," Washington went on, disappearing into the kitchenette. Oregon stood in the middle of the room, staring after her. Washington came back through, an apple in her mouth and two bottles of beer in her hands. She paused and took the apple from her mouth. "Hey, Daria. You okay?"

"No!" Oregon exclaimed. "What happened to you? How'd you grow so fast?"

Washington exchanged a look with America. "Well, my cities are growing really fast from fishing and timber," she said, "and the port of Seattle is doing international trade with ten countries now. That's why I went to Europe."

"Oh," Oregon said.

Washington hugged her as best she could with everything in her hands. "Don't worry. You'll grow soon!"

"Where are you running off to, Missy?" America demanded. 

"I'm just gonna go to De--Mr. Denmark's room and share this beer with him," Washington said.

"Oh, no you don't," America said firmly. "Not by yourself. Take your sister with you."

Washington looked aghast. "Pop, really!"

America was serious. "Complain about it and you'll be staying right here,"he declared. "He knows the rules. Was it his idea or yours?"

"Mine," she sighed. "C'mon, Pop, I wouldn't try to do anything with him! I barely know any of that stuff."

Oregon sidled up to Washington and smiled. "You can count on me, Daddy. I'll keep an eye on them." Washington scowled, but Canada saw the mischief in Oregon's eye. 

"Put those bottles in something," America reminded her. "Don't let anyone see you with that beer. You know it's against the law now."

"Stupid," Washington rolled her eyes, but she did as he asked. Canada wasn't about to just let them go after seeing that gleam in Oregon's eyes. As they went out the door, he drifted behind them at a distance, ears tuned.

"Don't worry, Kate," Oregon whispered when she thought he was out of range. "I won't tell on you if you want to kiss him."

Washington gasped. "Daria! I'm not old enough! He's a grown man. I'm still not ready. And he's not like that." Then, before Canada could duck back into the room, she turned and looked him right in the eye. "Nobody needs to worry about me."

She was right. Not only did Denmark keep his hands to himself but he also brought Oregon and Washington back to their rooms when it was time for Oregon to go to bed. And he was very polite and gracious. Still, Canada wasn't completely convinced that he wasn't at least a little interested in the newly-matured Washington. Canada thought his eyes lingered just a little too long. America didn't seem too concerned about it. He laughed and told Canada he was overreacting. 

Okay, maybe, he thought. But just a year ago she was a five year old kid! He sat at the little table long after everyone had gone to bed, drowning his sorrows (what sorrows?) in his favorite Canadian brandy. Because of the relatively new law prohibiting the sale, manufacture and consumption of alcohol in the United States, he had to remember to smuggle his own into the country and be discreet about drinking it. 

He had heard America go to bed hours ago, so when Washington suddenly appeared in the chair across from him, it scared him nearly to death. She looked very concerned. 

"Uncle Matt, I need to talk to you about something," she whispered. 

"Hmm? What is it, kitten?"

Washington frowned. "Well, I talked it over with a few of my brothers," she whispered. "You know, about growing up. They all said it's scary and it hurts, you know, because the people are new and they get into trouble and all, but...well, I know that there's a lot going on at home right now, and it's not like that for me. It's a little weird, but it's not painful. When that dickhead DC burnt down, it left scars on him. He said he couldn't walk for a year."

It suddenly dawned on him what she meant. "Seattle burned three times and you weren't even hurt," he murmured. 

"I knew it was happening, because I could feel the fire, but didn't feel hurt from it, and I didn't care, either," she confessed. "Not even when I heard that people died. Everyone else says that's supposed to hurt the worst of all. Does it hurt you?"

"Yes, of...of course," he said, feeling awful. "But you've got to remember, you're a little different. Look, have a talk with Denmark about this. He'll understand. It's like for him, too. Germany's brother might be able to give you some advice too. You certainly aren't alone." He sighed. "Katie, you should get some sleep. We have to be at the auditorium by nine."

"Yeah, okay," Washington said. "Well, thanks for listening, Uncle Matt. You're the best."

"Yeah, sure," Canada said, shooing her off. He sat there until nearly dawn, when Denmark came over with fresh coffee. 

"I couldn't sleep either," he confessed. "Man! The others are very boring," he sighed. "At least the little one is fun to be around. Only she isn't so little any more, is she?"

"No," Canada said, warily. "Say, don't you think she's a little inexperienced to be hanging around with the likes of you?"

"Huh, ja, but America won't let me teach her anything. He said he'd rather have someone a little more suave do it. Haha, suave! That's exactly what he said. I--" He looked around at Oregon, who was already wide awake. She looked slightly annoyed, and Canada realized she was in the process of getting dressed. She already had her shift on and her hair was neatly braided. "Godmorgen, pige! Are you ready for your spelling contest?"

"Of course I am," Oregon replied. "I'm going to win. Uncle Mattie helped me learn all the new words," she said proudly. She looked over her shoulder and gasped when Washington stormed out of the bedroom, her hair loose. At least she was dressed, Canada thought, even though her clothes were a little odd. She had the habit, he had noticed, of dressing like a pirate. She held a little dress in her hands. 

"Daria, get back here," she said, irritably. "Believe me, I don't wanna stuff you into this thing any more than you want to be stuffed into it. But you need to get dressed." 

"I don't mind wearing that dress," Oregon objected. "What I mind is you putting it on me."

"You'll mess up your hair," Washington pointed out. 

"No!" Oregon yelled, as Washington chased her with the dress. Finally Washington gave up trying to be nice and tackled Oregon to the floor. 

"Well this is fun," Denmark said, and Canada had to admit that it was amusing. They both watched as Washington wrestled the dress over Oregon's head, messing up her hair much more than Oregon would have if she'd dressed herself.

"I don't see why you get to be the one in charge," Oregon snarked. "I'm still older."

"Oh, go on," Washington said. "Are you going to come to this Spelling Bee, Mr. Denmark?"

"Hey, what'd I tell you about calling me that?" he demanded. "You know my name."

Canada and America stared at each other, then at Denmark. America smiled politely, but he looked worried. "Washington knows the rules about that," he pointed out. "Don't you, Kate?"

Washington scowled. "Yes, Pop."

"Let's go," Oregon said, anxiously grabbing Canada's hand. "Oscar's probably already there!"

America kept his eye on Washington and Denmark, who walked slightly ahead. Washington's skirt made it a little difficult for him to see what they were doing, but he could still tell. "No holding hands," he said, and Denmark quickly shoved his in his pockets. Washington shot him a dirty look over her shoulder.

Oregon took off running as soon as she saw Oscar. America and Canada went to speak to the proctor, and Washington stood with Denmark near the stage, making sure that both America and Canada could see that they weren't touching hands or anything else. Then, Washington snickered. 

"Hey, Mathias," she whispered. Canada, whose ears were slightly better at picking up her particular pitch, frowned. "That guy's called a proctor." She paused, giving him a minute to think about it. "So, then...you know what a proctologist is, don't you?"

"Katie!" Canada hissed, as she and Denmark began to giggle. "Both of you go sit down!"

There were fifty children in the spelling bee. The first half-hour was agony for poor Washington and Denmark, who both looked as if they'd rather be wrestling polar bears, Canada thought. But Washington managed to sit still like a lady and clapped politely, even as she made faces at Denmark when America wasn't looking. Canada sat behind the two of them, just in case Denmark's hands began to wander, but they didn't. 

The number of children on stage dwindled rapidly, until it was just Oscar, Oregon and one other boy. The words were getting harder and harder. The word 'antediluvian' finally brought Oscar down, and Canada thought Oregon was going to burst into tears. Now it was her and some smartass kid from Iowa. His word was 'ameliorate', which he spelled incorrectly with an 'e' in the place of the 'i'. Canada leaned forward in anticipation. All Oregon needed to do was spell her word correctly. It was in the bag.

"Miss Jones, your word is 'monolog'."

"Easy," Washington said to Denmark.

"Monolog," Oregon said. "M-o-n-o-l-o-g-u-e."

The proctor looked at her out of the tops of his glasses. "That is incorrect," he droned, but Oregon was ready for him.

"It is not incorrect," she replied. "If you'll just look in the dictionary, you'll see."

"Young lady, our word list--"

"Is wrong," Oregon interrupted. "There is more than one acceptable spelling."

Now the man looked extremely annoyed. "If you continue to argue, then this match will be forfeited to Master Hollingsworth," he declared, and the little boy from Iowa puffed his chest out.

"Oh, hell no," Washington said, loudly. A woman to America's left gasped indignantly.

But Oregon was ready for that too. She shot her sister a smug look, then caught Canada's eye and smiled. As the proctor prepared to give them each a different spelling word, Oregon cut him off. "It's in the rules," she interrupted. 

"This is...what?" the proctor asked, blinking at her.

"The rules," Oregon repeated. "It says in the rules that an entry may be spelled using either British English or American English, provided it is not slang, is in the Oxford Dictionary and is spelled correctly and used in a proper sentence."

The portly little man pushed his glasses up his nose, thumbing through the book. His cheeks reddened and he looked at Oregon over his glasses. "Young lady," he began, "in the United States we teach American English."

Oregon scoffed. "I know that," she said. "I also know that the correct spelling according to you is with the end letter 'g', but that's not the only correct answer. In Canada and the United Kingdom, it is spelled with the ending 'gue'. I can't be disqualified for spelling a word correctly. That little boy spelled his word incorrectly. He shouldn't be rewarded for failure."

The proctor drew himself up to his full height. Canada was reminded of a bowling pin--he couldn't help it.

"Miss Jones, we do not appreciate impertinent behavior."

"I-m-p-e-r-t-i-n-e-n-t," Oregon replied. "'Not showing proper respect; rude. Or," she added, "'not pertinent to a particular matter; irrelevant.'" She smiled sweetly. "I am neither."

"This is bullshit," Washington bellowed from her seat beside America. On her other side, Denmark buried his face in his coat and tried to smother a laugh. A deep gasp went through the assembly. "Daria, kick his ass!"

"She doesn't need to kick anyone's ass," Bowling Pin said, after a shocked silence. "Miss Jones is correct. There is nothing here that states the entries must be spelled using solely the American English spelling. She has conducted herself in a very dignified and mature manner," He looked over at Washington out of the tops of his glasses, "which could be a good lesson for some people."

Washington scowled. 

"Don't worry, little one," Denmark whispered loudly, leaning over to Washington. "We'll find some trouble to get into."

America frowned. "Mathias, don't be a bad influence on her. Believe me, she doesn't need it."

"Yes I do," Washington objected. She turned to Denmark with a dangerous smirk. "I saw an unattended motor car outside."

"Don't you dare!" America hissed as the two jumped out of their seats. They paused, looking at America, then at each other, and practically ran out of the auditorium. America put his head in his hands.


	4. Monopoly

Present Day 

"Thanks again, bro!" America exclaimed as he threw luggage into the backseat of the waiting Uber. The driver tried to tell him that the trunk was open, but he wasn't listening. "Okay, so I'll be back in two weeks! Remember what I said about Oregon not having any sugar past eight o'clock. And don't let Washington talk you into late nights." 

"I got it, Al," Canada promised. "We'll be fine. Go and enjoy yourself."

"Yeah," Washington added, appearing from out of nowhere. "Get outta here."

America paused before getting into the car. "Kate, have you been smoking again?" he asked. "I smell weed."

"No," Washington lied. 

"See you in two weeks Dad, bye!" Oregon bellowed from the upstairs window. America frowned as Washington shoved him into the passenger seat. 

"Okay, Pop, off you go..." She slammed the car door, nearly taking his hand off. "Have fun or whatever it is you and England will be getting up to."

America finally smiled back. "Well, you guys have fun too. Lay off the weed, Kate. Daria, no weird boys. Mattie, make sure Oregon doesn't have any boys over that you don't know."

"He doesn't know any of them!" 

Washington laughed. "Haha, Daria! You're going to die of boredom."

"There's plenty to do," Canada interjected. "I saw all those board games." Although he hadn't understood why America had insisted that the cupboard they were in remain locked at all times. Probably because some of the games were old and would be impossible to replace, but it wasn't likely that anyone would break in and steal them.

"Wait," America called, but the Uber was already pulling away. "Don't play..." His voice faded into the late morning breeze. Unfortunately, nobody heard him. Canada followed Washington into the house.

Out of all America's residences, this one was his personal favorite. You could walk to the beach, or go hiking in the mountains, and it was still in easy commuting distance to Victoria, where he lived during the summers. Even though Oregon was technically older than Washington, and they were both over a hundred and fifty years old, they still managed to get into enough trouble that their siblings considered them incorrigible, and none of them would help America with them. Canada was well aware of this, but he enjoyed trolling Washington. 

"So why couldn't any of the others come out here? Idaho's right there," he commented innocently.

Washington snorted. "Huh, something about blood pressure and alcoholism," she said. "So whaddaya wanna do?"

"Let's play a game," Canada suggested. 

"What game? We've got like a hundred," Washington reminded him, eyeing the shelf. "How about Monopoly?"

Canada raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure you want to play that? I can be very competitive when I play Monopoly," he warned.

"Are you now?" Washington remarked, smirking. "DARIA," she bellowed, "MONOPOLY!"

In a flash Oregon was downstairs, setting up the game. Washington assembled a table of snacks, which included a suspicious plate of brownies. Canada figured he'd better try one just to make sure they were okay. By the time they actually began to play, he was stoned.

"You understand that this will be the only time we ever play this," Oregon whispered as Washington rolled the dice. Canada gloated as he got the high number. Oregon kept landing on Go to Jail, and as they snapped up the properties Washington angrily accused Canada of switching to a pair of loaded dice she knew he carried up his sleeves.

Soon Canada was not wearing a shirt. 

"Cheater," she hissed as he landed on Boardwalk. Soon after, Oregon was forced to go bankrupt as he built hotels on Park Place and Boardwalk, so three-quarters of the board was his.

"Uncle Mattie," Oregon whispered when Washington stomped out of the room for a minute, "maybe you should quit now. I mean, you're so far ahead."

"I don't quit," he told her. 

She looked anxious. "You don't know," she began, just as Washington stormed back into the room. She had two bottles of beer in her hand. But instead of giving one to him she kept both of them.

"Don't you dare build any more hotels," she warned, but he didn't listen. And because he now owned pretty much everything, it didn't matter where she landed. Canada was assured of victory. But before he could enjoy it with her concession, it happened. 

Washington finally landed on Boardwalk, loaded with hotels. For a moment she sat there frozen, her little cannon figure poised over the deep blue property. Then, in the blink of an eye, she threw it across the room, where it went straight through the window, shattering the pane. Washington then seized handfuls of the money and proceeded to toss it at him, and then she finally took the loaded board and flipped it. 

"Fuck you!" she shouted. She kicked the box, scattering the rest of the pieces everywhere. Then she grabbed up one of the beers and threw it at his head. He barely managed to dodge it, but she had another. 

"You better run!" Washington shouted, charging him. "You cheating ass cheater!"

As stoned as he was, Canada wasn't sure how he made it outside, but she was still after him. Seeing the trees in the back yard, he made his escape and scrambled up.

Washington circled the base of the tree, throwing whatever she could find at him. "Get down here! I'll kill you! I'll kill you! You cheater, come down here so I can kick your ass!"

Canada cringed as her missiles whistled past his head, but then it occurred to him that he was being silly. She couldn't hurt him, he realized, and laughed down at her.

"You're a sore loser," he taunted. 

"That's it," she bellowed. She charged at the tree and climbed high enough to reach him. To his horror she began pulling him down. "Come...down here and...fight," she panted. 

His hands began to slip. Desperately he tried to stop himself sliding down, but it was too late. "Daria! Help," he pleaded, when he saw that she was watching.

"Nope," she shook her head, grinning as she slowly ate handfuls of the Chex Mix Washington had made. "I warned you. Now you deal."

Frantically he grabbed at the last few branches, but it was useless. Washington soon had him on the ground and was sitting on his chest. 

"You're going to pay," she promised.

"You can't," he insisted. "The neighbors will hear. They've probably already called the police!"

Oregon laughed. "They don't do that anymore. They know about Monopoly."

Canada widened his eyes as much as he could, trying to appeal to her femininity. Women could never resist his big violet eyes, especially when he made himself look vulnerable. 

It had the exact opposite effect on her. He soon found himself hog-tied and carried into the house (how the hell was she even able to pick him up? he wondered. Did America know she could do that?) and deposited onto the couch. 

"Daria," Washington said, in a voice like iron teeth, "Moomins."

Canada screamed. "No! No! Please, anything else! Kill me! Make me eat England's scones! Please! I'll do whatever you say! Just don't make me watch that," he begged. Sweat poured down his face. "Katie, you're my favorite out of all your siblings--"

"Hey!" Oregon exclaimed. 

"--and I will never cheat at Monopoly again," he went on, even though he hadn't cheated in the first place. But he knew that in order to survive this he would have to appease the monster. "I promise." He looked at her pleadingly. "No Moomins, s'il vous plait, ma cherie, ma petit fleur."

Washington narrowed her eyes. "Well," she began, "I guess I can untie you."

He sagged in relief. When Washington left the room to get something to cut the ties, he glared at a smirking Oregon. "You didn't tell me she could pick up a grown man!"

Oregon shrugged. "I forgot."

"Okay," Canada sighed as he was finally freed. "I think we can all agree that we don't want this to ever happen again."

"Oh, but it will," Oregon said. "It's not just Monopoly, after all. Why do you think those games are in a locked cabinet?"

"Jesus fucking _Christ_ ," he muttered. "Well, now I know," he said firmly. "Now let's never mention it again."

"Whatever you say, Uncle Matt," Washington said, as if nothing had happened. "Hey, so we're going out for tonight. We'll be back later."

"Wait just a minute! Going out with whom?" he shouted, eyeing the Monopoly mess. "You need to clean this mess up before you go anywhere!"

Oregon looked offended. "I didn't do any of that," she pointed out as Washington snuck out the door. "Well, looks like it's all yours, huh?"

"Who are you going with?" Canada bellowed, but they were already tearing out of the driveway. 

Oh well, he thought. Some peace and quiet would be nice after that disastrous game. After all, how much trouble could they possibly get themselves into?

Three hours later, he got a collect call from the jail.


	5. Angry Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canada bails the girls out of jail.

Canada had never wanted a bong rip so badly in his life. 

Stupid jail lobby and their 'Forget Enjoying Yourself Ever Again' sign. He checked his watch for the tenth time. It had been an hour and the commander still hadn't come out to speak with him. What was taking so long?

"Look, I just want to post bail for my nieces," he said to the frazzled looking CO working the desk. "Can't you just pull up their charges so I know how much it will be?"

"What's the name?" the shell-shocked officer asked. 

"Jones. Uh, Daria and Ka...trin...a?" He suddenly realized that he had no idea what Washington's full name was.

"We got a Jones Daria, but not a Katrina," the officer said. Canada sighed.

"Well, okay, but she called me. How about Kate? Kate Jones?"

The officer's eye twitched. "Look, sir, the only Jones we have is the Daria girl."

Canada clenched his fists, but kept them in his pockets. "What about the girl she was arrested with?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice down. 

The officer gazed blankly at the screen. "There were four people arrested at the location," she said. "None of them are...oh, you mean Katrina Braginskaya? Yes, she's here too. Is something wrong, sir?"

"No," Canada said calmly, but it wasn't true. Washington wouldn't troll the cops like that, would she? Giving that last name. Finally the heavy door coming in from the holding area opened, and the commander approached him. 

"Thank you for finally showing up," Canada snapped before he could stop himself. 

"He's here to post bail for _those_ two," the CO said, shuddering. 

Canada frowned. "Who were my nieces arrested with?" he demanded. 

"We can't give you that information," the commander said, crisply. "It's diplomatically sensitive."

Canada felt his fingernails punch holes into his palms. "Just tell me what happened so I can get them out of here."

The commander and his officer exchanged an indignant look. "They are being charged with vandalism," he said. "Bail's two grand for the both of them, since it's not their first ride on this merry-go-round. Listen, Mr. Williams, I can see that you're obviously a respectable guy. So let me just warn you that if your nieces continue hanging around people like that, they're going to be doing much worse than painting angry eyes on the Helsingfors mural."

As he handed over his credit card Canada nearly dropped his wallet. "They did what?"

"Well, _as usual,_ Miss Braginskaya denies being involved, but they were all caught fleeing the scene, and they had paint and brushes," the commander informed him. "That mural...why are you smiling? Do you find it funny that your kids defaced a piece of art that my kid spent two years working on?"

Canada pressed his mouth shut tightly. He fumbled the card back into his wallet and squeezed his eyes shut briefly. He couldn't let himself laugh.

"Eighteen elk and a wolverine," the commander hissed, "now all have the appearance of rabid beasts! Your smartass nieces and their hooligan boyfriends painted angry eyes and fangs on all those elk! Elk don't have fangs!"

"Well actually--" Canada began.

The commander glared at him. _"They don't,"_ he repeated. 

"I have to go," Canada said, getting in gear. He was going to lose it. "I'll wait for them in the parking lot." He hurried outside, but then he began to run. He knew exactly where the mural was from here and he wanted to see for himself. He was expecting cartoonist-style frowny faces, but when he finally saw it, he sank to his knees in awe.

The eighteen elk did have angry eyes and foaming, fanged mouths, but what really put the icing on the cake was the now-screaming wolverine in the center of it all. It now held a sawed-off shotgun in its paws, and its eyes were popping wildly out in every direction. At its feet lay a mangled, decapitated rabbit carcass that looked suspiciously like Bugs Bunny.

"Isn't it awesome?"

Canada jumped. He had not heard the girls approach. Oregon looked reverently at the wolverine. "I did that part," she said. "The angry eyes are all Fra--"

"Daria, hold kæft," Washington exclaimed. "Oh!" She slapped her hands over her mouth. "Shit. I mean..."

"What do you mean by that name you gave those cops?" Canada demanded, wisely choosing not to ask them about anything else. "They almost didn't let me bail you out. I didn't know your damn name and I'm supposed to be your damn uncle!"

Washington looked embarrassed, for once. "Well, that is my real name," she confessed. "I'm adopted. Pop never changed it outta respect for my parents. How could you not know that?" she wondered. "Everyone knows. Russia and Finland are my parents."

Canada looked at both girls in suspicion. "I guess I forgot," he said slowly. "So, just who got you into all this mess? Or was it your idea?"

"It was mostly our idea," Washington said, "but the guys brought the paint."

"What guys?" Canada asked in his most unassuming voice. "Do they live around here?"

Washington began to snicker. "Haha! N...no," she managed to say. "They're visiting. From away."

He looked at the rampaging elk again. Something about the way their eyes glared at him was familiar. Where had he seen that particular expression before? It reminded him of his childhood, and the rare times when his Papa was displeased with him. Beside him, Washington finally got her phone turned on.

"Those idiots tried reading my texts," she said to Oregon. "Good thing they couldn't. That commander tried to get us to translate em, so we made everything up. Haha!" She snickered again. "We made him blush."

"Hey, Fr...eddy texted me," Oregon remarked. "He said they're bored."

"Who on earth were you caught with? Does America know these guys?" Canada demanded. 

They looked at each other. "Yeah," Washington admitted. "Uh, don't we have to get going?"

"Yes," Canada said. "Give me your phones."

Washington looked horrified. "No!"

Canada set his jaw and grabbed for her phone. "Give me that...phone..."

"N...no," she growled, tightening her hands around it. 

"Give...it!"

"Fuck...off!" 

Bracing himself, Canada pulled as hard as he could, but to his surprise, she didn't give a single centimeter. "What...is on...your phone that you...don't...want...me to see?" he grunted, trying to pry her fingers from her phone. 

She held on even tighter. "Nothing," she hissed. Her eyes narrowed, and he narrowed his own eyes back at her. "Uncle Matt," she began, "behind you."

"I'm not falling for that," he growled. Finally he managed to peel three of her fingers back. But she wasn't giving up.

Washington stomped down on the top of his foot as hard as she could, and he instantly let go. As soon as he did, both Oregon and Washington took off running towards the car, and before he could get the keys out of his pocket, they jumped inside. Startled, he felt in his pockets and realized that Oregon had taken them while he was struggling with Washington over her phone. As they peeled out of the car park he also became aware that their own car was nowhere to be seen.

America was going to kill him.


	6. Can't Unsee It

"I cannot believe he can sleep through this noise."

As much as he loved sleeping here, Canada thought that it was just a little creepy that his dream-narrator sounded exactly like his papa. He couldn't recall ever really noticing that before. In fact, he realized as he rolled over and stretched, he couldn't even remember having a dream narrator before. 

So why did this seem so familiar? 

"Ohonhonhon, I have not known Matthieu to be such a heavy sleeper before," the narrator continued, and his eyes flew open.

Aside from a muffled banging sound, it was completely silent.

Canada blinked the sleep out of his eyes and tried to look at his watch. He flew out of bed when he saw that it was past eight. He had to get breakfast going! Oregon would burn the house down. As he hurried down the stairs he shrugged into his favorite sweatshirt, the one with Smudge the Cat. Beneath the cat were the words ANUS TART. Washington would get a bang out of it, he thought.

He skidded to a stop at the kitchen threshold. France was standing at the range, piling crepes onto a platter. Canada dimly registered that he was wearing a bathrobe.

"Bonjour, cheri," his papa said.

"What are you doing here?" Canada exclaimed. 

Upstairs, the thumping sound increased in volume, and the hanging lights swayed.

"We just brought back your _adorable_ nieces' car," Francis replied. "They were so nice to let us borrow it."

Canada's eyes narrowed. "What is that on your hand, papa? Is that paint?" He pointed at his papa. "So! It was you!"

"Ohohonhon, it looks like that," Francis chuckled. "I suppose it is. Oui, I was there. Ah, there you are, ma belle," he exclaimed as Oregon strolled in. "Breakfast is ready. Who wants to be the one to tell--"

"No," Oregon interrupted. "I'm starving!" She quickly sat down and Francis glanced up at the ceiling. He looked at Canada and smiled.

"I made your favorite, mon fils, there are pancakes in the oven with your name on them," he purred. "You can have them when you bring Washington downstairs." Now the ceiling was heaving. Canada frowned. What was she doing up there?

"Fine," he sighed and took the stairs two at a time. Now he could hear music, which accounted for some of the shaking. If he pounded on the door she'd likely not hear it, so he rattled the knob once to make sure it was unlocked and opened the door.

Immediately he slammed it and stood with his back to it. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, he couldn't stop seeing the scene on the other side of the door.

"Katrina!" he bellowed over the music. "What is Denmark doing in your bed? No!!" he shouted, "do not answer that!"

The music lowered. There was muffled giggling, and Canada felt his face burning. "I think he's mad," Washington whispered finally. 

"Get dressed. Now," Canada ordered, finally opening his eyes. "Papa made breakfast. I'm assuming," he added, "for all of us." He frowned slightly and turned to pound on the door. "Hey!! Don't you start up again!"

"Why are you listening at the door, Uncle Matt?" Washington demanded, between thuds. She sounded very out of breath, and Canada felt as if his face had burst into flames. It got even worse when Denmark began yelling in Danish. At this point Canada couldn't take it anymore and he raced downstairs. 

"You knew they were fucking up there!" he bellowed, pointing at his papa. Oregon choked on her food and sprayed orange juice across the table, hitting France in the face. He calmly wiped it off.

"I did not _know,_ Matthieu," he corrected, "I was _hoping_. Poor Denmark has been pining after dear Washington for almost a hundred years, mon fils, do you have any idea what that is like?"

"Give me my goddamn pancakes," Canada hissed. "Now."

As he drowned them in maple syrup, Oregon and France watched with identical expressions of anticipation on their faces. "Eh?" he asked, looking up in suspicion. "What are you looking at?"

"Did you catch them at it?" Oregon asked eagerly. "Oh my God, were they actually doing it when you went up there? Did you open the door?"

Canada shoved a forkful of pancakes into his mouth, wishing he could just turn back the clock and never get out of bed. Or better yet, not answer the phone when America called to ask him to come over. They didn't need anyone to watch them, he told himself. It wasn't like they could get themselves killed or anything. 

The kitchen rattled with the noise of whatever Denmark was doing to Washington up there. It sounded like a goddamn earthquake. "Yes, yes, and unfortunately yes," he muttered.

"Ooh! Ooh, my God, they're doing it," Oregon squealed, sounding like a twelve year old. 

Canada tore his pancakes apart, chewing viciously. 

"They've been upstairs since he and Francis got here," Oregon said, most unhelpfully. Now it sounded as if something--most likely some _one_ (Washington)--were being slammed against a wall. As the noise escalated, France and Oregon continued to eat as if nothing were going on. 

Unfortunately, Canada was unable to pretend anything of the sort. He would never be able to unsee it. His own niece, who by all intents and purposes looked no older than seventeen, being plundered by the Kingdom of Denmark. It didn't matter if she was really nearly as old as Iceland (if what he remembered Russia telling him once was correct). He had that image seared permanently behind his eyelids. 

He could not unsee it.

Finally, after an eternity, the noise came to a crescendo. Canada slapped his hands over his ears, clenching his teeth. He didn't speak Danish, but he didn't have to in order to figure out what Denmark was yelling. And he certainly didn't want to hear Washington. Oregon, at least, had the decency to blush. France got up and began making more crepes, and Canada waited for the two porn stars to make their entrance.

Denmark came down the stairs first, and as Canada expected, was strutting like a peacock. Even though he was obviously fresh out of the shower, his hair was already sticking up in its usual wild spikes. He and France exchanged a smug look, and then he saw Canada's shirt and laughed.

"Ha! Anus tart," he chuckled. 

"Denmark," Canada began, his voice dripping with deadly politeness, "I was just wondering, does America know you're over here?" He didn't wait for Denmark to answer. "I'll just call him right now and let him know that we have company this morning."

"Uncle Mattie," Oregon began.

"No, no, I'll just call him right n--" He broke off, staring in horror at the message that popped up on his phone. At exactly that moment, Washington shouted from upstairs.

"Oh fuck no! Oh my God!" Laughing hysterically, she tore downstairs as everyone checked their phones, all of them having received the same photo from her. Denmark was most appreciative, Oregon was giggling uncontrollably, France looked impressed, and Canada was absolutely mortified. 

Washington had obviously only intended for Denmark to get that photo. In it she was showing off her newest tattoo, which happened to cover nearly her entire side. It was an ash tree, and it went from her shoulder all the way to just above her knee. 

"Haha, sorry about that," she said as as Canada's phone began to blow up. He looked at it and sighed. Finland, Russia and America were all trying to reach him. 

"You sent that body shot to everyone in your phone!" Denmark laughed, going through his messages. "Norway would like to speak with you later!"

"Oh shit, I forgot that Iceland is in my chat group," Washington gasped. "Oh, no! D'ya think he's mad?"

"Well, Iceland probably isn't," Denmark assured her. Canada shoved his chair back and stormed out onto the back deck to answer America's call.

"Hah, whoa there," America laughed, but he sounded a little worried. "What's going on over there? Isn't it kind of early for drunk texting?"

"No, Al, she's not drunk," Canada insisted. "But I wish I was." He glared into the kitchen, but nobody noticed him. "Papa is here, with Denmark," he added ominously. 

"Oh, I know," America said, much to his surprise. "Den called me last night to make sure it was okay. I'm kind of surprised he even asked. I was expecting him to just do it and have me walk in on them, or something."

Canada pinched the bridge of his nose. "You mean like I did this morning? Jesus Christ, Al. You should have warned me!"

"I did," America objected. "You didn't answer. So I thought you knew already. I figured you would call me if you'd, you know, interrupted them."

"So you don't care?"

"No. Why should I? She's old enough," America pointed out. "Remember, she's Finland's. Finland looks hella young too." He paused. "Well, is everything going okay over there? Nobody hurt or in jail or anything?"

"No," Canada said firmly. He did not feel like telling America about the mural. Besides, they weren't in jail now. "Everything is fine." He noticed Washington looked intensely uncomfortable. "You want to talk to either of them?"

"Nah, I'm good," America said. "I talked to them last night. I'll call ya later. Thanks again, Mattie. You're the best."

Sure. Sure he was. 

He opened the door and looked in at them. Right before he could open his mouth to tell them they were all banned from texting, Washington gave Oregon a pleading look.

"Daria, please get me a towel," she said, sounding chagrined. She cringed and exchanged a guilty look with Denmark. 

Oregon giggled like a middle schooler. When she brought the towel, Canada realized what Washington needed it for, and he had finally had enough. 

"All of you out," he shouted. Denmark took immediate offence. 

"I couldn't help it," he protested. "There was a lot. I had to wait forever to finally do...uh, that."

"OUT," Canada bellowed, pointing. 

Now he not only couldn't unsee it, but he couldn't unhear that.

Two weeks never seemed longer.


	7. On the Green

"I can't believe you've never played golf before, Uncle Mattie," Oregon remarked as they trekked across the green to the sand trap. Washington had landed square in the middle of it. "You're really good at this."

They watched as Washington swung her sand wedge at the ball, swearing. She turned and glared at them. 

"I can't believe it, Uncle Mattie," she mimicked angrily. "You're really good at this--why don't you both just fuck off?"

"Because watching you get all pissed is fun," Oregon said.

Washington hacked at the sand, finally hitting the ball out of it. "I _wanted_ to go with Denmark to AxeCon," she reminded Canada for the fifteenth time. 

"I don't care what you wanted to do," Canada remarked as they moved away from the sand trap. Oregon squealed happily when her phone chimed.

"Uncle Matt, please can I see if Den texted me?" Washington sighed, giving Canada her best 'being good at the golf course' look.

"After this game," Canada promised, but when Washington wasn't looking he snuck a look at her phone, seeing. ...Oh, mon Dieu, he thought, is that even right? One hundred and ten...eleven texts?

Washington did not fail to notice that he was looking at something. "What are you doing?" she demanded, but before she could come any closer, she tripped over an iron their caddy had forgotten to put away. 

"Why you--!" She slashed at the caddy with the offending club, narrowly missing the young man's head. "Put this damn thing away!" She yanked her driver out of his hand. "Absolutely hopeless."

Used to her verbal abuse, the caddy just shrugged. As Washington squared off, she nearly hit him on her backswing.

"Damn it, will you please--! Don't stand behind me when I'm shooting. Stand over there," she ordered, shoving him aside. But as she prepared to hit the ball, she realized he was directly in her path. 

"What are you doing standing in the way?" she demanded.

"But you told me to stand here, miss," the caddy said. 

"So what? Never mind where I told you to stand," she snapped at the caddy. "Stand where I tell you. Get out of my way!" She turned to Canada and sneered. "He's so stupid he doesn't even know what time it is."

Canada suddenly remembered his scheduled video chat with America. "Say, what time is it?"

"I dunno," Washington said as she swung.

"It's three fifteen," the caddy offered.

"Shut up," Washington snapped. 

Behind her, Oregon giggled as she exchanged texts with France. Canada still couldn't believe it. His own papa! Well, he could sort of understand. After all Oregon was elegantly pretty, and she was half England's daughter. What he really had trouble believing was that not only was his brother completely aware of both France's and Denmark's infatuations with his daughters but he was also okay with it. Denmark had even asked permission. His cheeks burned as he remembered the scene at breakfast yesterday. 

"Oh, son of a bitch!" Washington shouted as the golf ball sailed into the pond. "Fucking goddamn cheating ass golf course bitchass motherfucker!" She then threw her club into the water as well.

"Hey, you can't do that," the guy at the next hole called.

"What do you mean I can't do that?" Washington seized the entire golf bag and tossed that in as well. Then she noticed her caddy just standing there and charged him, grabbing him by the seat of his pants and pitching him into the water, too. "Get my clubs outta there," she shouted.

"What's the big idea?" The other man stormed over, waving his arms. "Are you two just going to stand there while she disrupts everyone's game?"

"Kate, stop, don't," Oregon muttered, busily texting France. Canada pretended to be very interested in a sudden cloud over the sun.

"Listen, you," the man began, pointing a finger at Washington. She blinked at him in amazement as he began to scold her. "Some of us here are trying to enjoy a nice game of golf, and you--"

From out of nowhere, a golf ball sailed through the air, coming down directly on the man's head. He dropped like a stone as his pals hurried over. Washington doubled over, wheezing with laughter, as Denmark strolled up, looking somehow both completely innocent and extremely guilty. 

"Hey, guys," he said cheerfully. 

"Wait just a minute," Pal One demanded. "You just hit my father! What are you going to do about it?"

Washington shoved him aside and Denmark threw his arm around her. "He was obviously in the way," he said as the man staggered several feet. "He walked right into the game." He looked down at Washington. "Kate, don't you ever answer your texts?"

"Uncle Matt took my phone because of The Photo," Washington informed him.

Canada cleared his throat, his cheeks heating up. "Katrina, you ought to help that guy out of the water," he suggested. 

Washington glanced back at the caddy, who was now struggling to get onto dry ground. "Oh, to hell with him," she said, waving her hand dismissively. Sighing, Canada went down to the pond as the kid finally pulled himself and the golf bag onto the grass. Handing him a towel from the golf cart, Canada glanced back at Oregon and Washington, saw that the police were headed towards them, and groaned. As he hurried over, he heard the officer greet them.

"Oh, shit, it's you," he said, glaring at the girls. "I might've known. Look, knock it off. Whatever you did, just stop it."

"This guy walked right into my line," Denmark pointed out. "He wasn't supposed to be there. Just stormed right over and started yelling at my lady here."

"You're that Danish guy from the other night, aren't you?" the cop said, looking at him in suspicion. "I'm watching you. Cut it out." With that, he got the hell out of there.

The caddy finally caught up to them. "Sir, your phone," he said, holding it out to Canada. "Someone named Alfred keeps trying to call you."

"Where was that?" Canada exclaimed. 

"In the golf bag," the boy replied. Canada's eye twitched. 

"Katrina," he began, in his scariest quiet voice. "Did you put my phone in that golf bag?"

"You shouldn't have taken mine," she shrugged. 

Oregon laughed. "Well, you're definitely not getting ice cream now," she said.

"Don't worry, I'll take you for ice cream, since mean Uncle Matthew won't," Denmark promised. 

Canada clenched his teeth. "Why are you still here! Don't you have things to do at home, in Denmark?"

"No," Denmark shrugged. 

I need a time machine, Canada thought. And I'd only have to use it once. 

Or twice. 


	8. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canada is unable to attend his own meeting, due to his familial obligations, so some of the Nations decide to come to Seattle for an impromptu sesh.

"Hey, Uncle Matt?" Washington asked, appearing from out of nowhere. Canada jumped, and when she wasn't looking he swiped at her with the spatula he was using to flip pancakes. She looked over at him, clearly wondering what had just flown past her head. But he was simply standing at the range, making breakfast. "Uncle Matt, who's Gilbert?"

Blood slammed into Canada's face as he remembered the drunken encounter he'd had with Prussia and Germany a month ago. Prussia had challenged him to a drinking contest, and he had won, but at a terrible cost. "He's Germany's older brother," he told her. "You might've heard of him. He calls himself The Awesome Prussia. Wh...what's brought this up, eh?"

Washington shrugged. "Well, he's at the front door," she informed him. "Didja invite him, or something? Pop didn't say anyone else was coming. Should we tell them to leave?"

"No!" Canada grabbed her arm and shoved her upstairs. He sighed when he saw her unmade bed. She snickered as she followed his gaze, and he gritted his teeth. "Get in there. And I don't want to hear a peep out of you!" 

"But Uncle Matt, me n' Daria--"

He slammed the door, then paused as he considered. She was sneaky, and would probably try to interrupt whatever was going on downstairs. He cringed as he thought of the repercussions of allowing Washington and Prussia to interact. With that in mind, he locked her bedroom door from the outside using America's emergency key.

He hurried downstairs, where a very frustrated Prussia and Germany were arguing with Oregon.

"Look, I wasn't asking you if you have to leave," Oregon was saying. "I was telling you that you have to leave. My dad isn't here and he said we weren't to have--"

Prussia interrupted her. "That's not what I heard," he informed her. "You just asked us if we had to leave. You said, 'Sorry? But you're going to have to go?"

Oregon huffed. "It wasn't a question!"

"Oregon," Canada interrupted, realizing why Prussia and Germany were there, "it's fine. Why don't you keep an eye on breakfast?" He knew it was risky, because she was nearly as bad as England when it came to culinary arts, but he'd already finished the pancake batter and she only had to keep them from burning. 

Oregon backed from the doorway slowly, keeping a wary eye on the German Brothers. Exasperated, Canada shooed her with both hands. 

"Go on, please," he said firmly. As soon as she was safely in the kitchen, he turned back to Germany and Prussia. "I really appreciate this, you guys. I nearly forgot about that meeting!"

"The others are just coming," Germany said. "But I'm afraid Norway and Iceland won't be here. I got a very strange message from Norway," he added, frowning. "He said something about a red-headed menace corrupting his brothers."

"That is weird," Canada remarked, and quickly changed the subject. "Well, I've got pancakes on if anyone's--"

Prussia shoved past him and made a beeline for the kitchen. 

"Hungry," Canada finished. As the other scheduled nations began to arrive, he was grateful that Oregon seemed awed by everyone enough to remain generally well-behaved, even when France showed up. England was with him, so naturally, she wouldn't want her papa to know what she was up to.

Unfortunately, the nations all were very curious about her. "So you're that Oregon we've all heard so much about," Romano said, trying his hardest to seem unimpressed. It was hard not to be impressed with her, Canada knew. Oregon was pretty and polite and when it was important to make a good impression she never failed.

"You should meet my sister," Oregon said. Canada facepalmed. He had hoped that the subject of Washington wouldn't come up. Denmark's face lit right up.

"Yeah! If you think Oregon's hot, you should definitely meet Washington." 

"Shut up," Canada snapped, but it was too late. Prussia leaned forwards, staring at Denmark in fascination.

"Wait. You've met her? How did you meet her when I haven't?"

Canada wished desperately that Denmark would lower his voice. If Washington knew he was here, she'd definitely flip out. It was already a miracle that she hadn't started yelling to be let out of her room.

Denmark sat back in his chair, exchanging a smug look with France. "I settled her first," he boasted. 

Oregon hid a smile behind her hand. Canada tried to get the meeting back on track, but England had noticed that France's hand was definitely not where it should be, and they began to bicker about how inappropriate it was for France to have his hand on Oregon's leg beneath the table. Romano and his brother Veneziano began to place bets on who would win. Denmark began to narrate the fight in a voice that was much too loud. Paired with Prussia's piercing laugh and it was pure chaos.

Germany had finally had it. "All of you shut up!" he shouted. "You are all behaving like children! Not that it's anything new," he added, "but Canada has been kind enough to allow us to be here, and we need to..." His voice trailed off and he frowned, looking around. For a moment, nobody said anything, and then the sound that had interrupted Germany came again.

Directly above them, there was the distinct sound of stomping feet. After a pause, it came again, in the same spot, and louder this time. Canada's jaw clenched. Washington was aware of their meeting, thanks to Denmark's loud voice, and she was now jumping up and down on the hardwood floor in her room to show her displeasure. 

Now the footsteps stomped across the ceiling, lingering especially loudly directly over Canada's head.

"Just a minute," he said politely and excused himself. Once he was out of sight he raced up the stairs, failing to notice Prussia creeping up behind him. He rattled the knob on Washington's door, but it wouldn't open, so he pounded on it. "Open up!"

"I can't," Washington said. "You locked me in."

"Where's the fucking key?" he shouted.

"It's in your pocket," she reminded him.

"Hm? Oh, yeah," he muttered as he fished it from his pants. He shoved the door back and stormed into her room, grabbing her by the arm and pinching her hard enough to make her squeal. "Stop that damn noise! There are people downstairs!" he hissed. "You stay in this room and be quiet until I say!"

Behind him, the Italy brothers and the Baltics had joined Prussia, and they were watching the scene in fascination. As Germany, England and the Nordics joined them, Canada turned and found himself faced with the entire meeting crowding the hall.

"Who might you be, little birdie?" Prussia asked, sidling up to Washington.

"Wait a minute, none of your business who she is," Denmark objected, but Washington laughed, and Canada suddenly wanted to cry. That laugh only meant one thing: trouble. 

"I'm Washington," she said, pushing past Canada. "I already know your name. The Awesome Prussia."

"So you're the red-headed menace. I might have known," Germany remarked, much to Canada's surprise. He had not expected Germany to even come upstairs. Washington laughed again in sheer delight. 

"Who said I was a menace? That's so awesome," she exclaimed, and Prussia gave her a high-five. 

"Norge," Denmark said, squeezing between Prussia and Washington. He gave Prussia a threatening look. "He's still kind of mad about that text."

"Oh, that," Washington blushed. Then she seemed to notice everyone else. To Canada's surprise she spotted Romano right away. Her blush intensifed, and Romano smiled back at her. She looked like a nervous little girl, Canada thought. 

What the hell?

"I, uh...I didn't happen to accidentally send you a photo of myself not...wearing clothes, did I?" she stammered.

Romano's eyebrows shot up. "No," he exclaimed, unable to hide his shock at her bold question. Then he added, "I wish you had."

"Hey!" Denmark shouted, but Romano just gave him a dirty look.

Washington gestured to her open door. "Oh, well, I could show you really quick, if you--"

"Washington! Stop that," Canada snapped. He saw with some alarm that Romano now looked as if he were having difficulty with his pants. Washington also looked very uncomfortable, but Denmark acted like he didn't even notice. Canada sighed and wished not for the first or last time that he could just disappear. "All of you get back downstairs," he added, trying not to lose his temper completely. "I just need to talk to my niece about something." He glared at Denmark. "Get your hand out of her skirt. I can see what you're doing."

As soon as the others were gone, he turned on Washington. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Romano is one of your...America's oldest friends! I don't need you trying to seduce him!"

Laughing, Washington bounced onto her still-unmade bed. "Is that what you think I was doing? Uncle Matt, come on. Give me some credit here! Lovi--I mean, _Romano_ \--is my bro. Who do you think taught me all my swears? Pop useta have him mind me when he was in Europe for whatever."

"What?"

"Yeah," Washington said. "Maybe I kissed him a coupla times, but he was just showing me how. He taught me all kindsa stuff. You know."

Canada's eye twitched. "No, I don't know," he replied. "Do I need to have a talk with my brother about this?"

Washington threw her hands up. "Jesus, Uncle Matt! No! What is it with you and acting all offended all of a sudden? You weren't this upset when you found out about Daria and your own papa getting it on. So why me?"

"There isn't...you...I'm...what?" Canada exclaimed. "Papa and Daria are doing what?"

"I thought you knew," Washington said, smiling slyly.

"No," Canada hissed, clenching his fists in his pockets. No wonder France had been so much nicer to England lately, he thought. "Kate, I know America is aware of your thing with Denmark, but does he know about this?"

She looked confused. "What, about my experimenting with L--Romano? Sure he does. It was his idea," she added, much to Canada's astonishment. "Can you blame him? I mean, considering the alternatives? He wouldn't let Denmark do it," she added sourly, "because he said Denmark would be too rough. Whatever. I guess he had a point though. If Denmark had been the one instead of Romano I'd probably have been traumatized."

Canada growled in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose. "All right," he sighed. "You don't have to stay up here. But don't get in the way! And if I catch you sneaking off with anyone you will be right back in here."

Beaming, she threw her arms around him, nearly cracking his ribs. He kept forgetting about how strong she was because she and Oregon were nearly the same size, but Oregon was just a bit taller. "You're the best, Uncle Matt," she exclaimed. 

Sure. Sure he was.

"I'm going to make everyone my awesome ice cream drink!" she added as she dashed downstairs. Canada finally felt like he could relax, and he shut his eyes, lying back on the rumpled bed. He would have drifted off if something hadn't crashed into a window downstairs. As Washington and Prussia began to laugh (the two laughs combined were simply terrifying) he flew downstairs to see Denmark staggering to his feet with Romano advancing on him with hands balled into fists. 

"Touch her like that in front of everyone again, Viking Bastard," he snarled. "Go on, try it."

"Den, I told you," Washington gasped, trying not to laugh. "Let me see your eye. Oh," she cooed, kissing his reddened cheekbone, "that's gonna be a keeker!"

"What's going on in here?" Canada demanded. "Romano, what just happened?"

"That smug bastard thought it would be appropriate to put his marauding hands under Katrina's shirt," Romano growled, "in front of everyone!"

Wanting to die, Canada turned and looked at everyone who just happened to be sitting in a group watching the scene play out. "I am so sorry, everyone," he said, wishing for a cyanide pill. Never in a million years had he imagined that this would be the outcome of a meeting that he hosted. Then he noticed that they were all staring at Germany's laptop. "Uh...is something wrong?"

"Dude, this is better than 90-Day Fiance," America said from the laptop screen. Canada turned in desperation to Latvia. 

"Quick. I need a cyanide pill," he babbled. "Please!"

The Baltic nation looked doubtful. "Well, okay," he said, and dug into his briefcase. "Here you go."

"Oh thank God," Canada sighed as he popped it into his mouth. "It's been horrible, guys," he added and crunched down.

When he came to, days later, he was in his bed. Washington was jumping on the mattress as she talked with America on the phone. "Oh, he's awake now," she said, noticing. She jumped off the mattress and landed on the floor. Downstairs, Oregon yelled at her to cut it out. As Washington left the room she began yelling back at her that he was awake, without moving the phone away from her mouth.

Damn it, he thought. Oh well. At least he'd gotten a break. Too bad it couldn't be permanent. He could only hope that America wasn't too disappointed in him. As he settled his glasses onto his face his eye happened upon an envelope on the nightstand.

 _To ~~Canadia~~ ~~Canna~~ America's Brother,_ it read. Sighing, he looked inside, and smiled when he saw the ten capsules. The accompanying note read:

'Just in case. Your friend, Raivis Galante (Latvia)'.


	9. Uh-Oh Kitty Kitty

"Is he still sitting there?"

Washington slowly peeked around the landing and looked down. "Yes."

"Oh my God," Oregon hissed. "Why won't he go do something else?" They crept silently back to Oregon's room. "This is so unfair! I don't see why we have to be grounded." She threw herself onto her bed, pouting at the ceiling. "I mean, it wasn't even my fault that you and stupid Denmark got caught banging each other at the Space Needle."

Washington shot her a dirty look. "You were _supposed_ to keep point for us," she reminded her. "Then someone had to waltz on in and you let em because France had his hand in your--"

"I don't see how that's my fault," Oregon argued. 

"Well, since you asked me," Washington pointed out. 

"I didn't ask you."

"You did just now!" Washington insisted. 

Oregon shoved her sister off the bed. "Why does everyone think I'm asking questions? You need to find a way to distract him, Kate."

"Me! Why me?"

Narrowing her eyes, Oregon folded her arms across her chest. "Because it's all your fault."

Washington scoffed. "Whatever, Daria. _You're_ the one who let us get caught. Oh shit," she exclaimed, as a pebble struck the window. She rushed to the window and pushed it up, then flinched back as another pebble hit her. "Ow! Den, knock it off! The window's open!"

"Come on," Denmark whispered loudly. "Wait a minute. I'll climb up and get you."

"Kate, don't you dare," Oregon began, but then she saw France waving to her from behind the tree. "Hurry up!" she whispered back. "Uncle Mattie's downstairs!"

"Just a minute," Washington said. "I have an idea!" She dashed across the hallway into her own room, where her cat lay curled up on her pillow. "Kitty," she called. "Kitty kitty kitty."

The cat grumbled and rolled over. 

"Kitty kitty," Washington coaxed.

"Leave me alone," came the muffled reply.

"Kittyyyyy," Washington whined.

"Whaaat?" he hissed.

"Kitty, wake up," she pleaded.

"No."

"Please wake up," she added.

"Why?" he demanded, still in the same position. 

"Because Denmark and France are here and we want to go out," she told him.

"So?" He looked over his shoulder at her.

"So, I need you to go distract Uncle Matt," Washington insisted.

He put his head back down. "Fuck."

_"Kitty!"_

_**"Whaaat?"**_ he growled.

"Kitty, get up. I need you to do this one thing for me," she pleaded.

_**"No!"** _

She slid next to him and began scratching the spot on his back that he could never reach. "I'll give you some catnip," she offered.

"Fine," he sighed. He got up and padded downstairs, peering around the newel post. He fixed Canada with his most intense stare, and it didn't take long before the nation felt someone staring at him. 

Canada looked around quickly, expecting to see Washington lurking in the shadows, but no one was there. Maybe he was imagining things, he thought as he went back to his book. But a few seconds later, he felt the stare again. Slowly, the cat crept to the corner of the hallway, ducking behind a wall. Closer and closer he crept, hiding behind furniture each time Canada looked around. Outside the cat could hear the car peeling out as they hit the end of the driveway, and Canada heard this as well. But before he could get up to investigate, he saw something dart behind the couch. 

"What the hell?" he muttered. He knew already that Washington had a cat, but it was very unfriendly and stayed away from anyone who wasn't Washington. It would have no reason to be down here. Sure enough, when he looked behind the couch nothing was there. But then his eye caught his reflection in the mirror and he froze.

A giant shadow loomed up from the corner, and before he could turn to face it, the cat leapt into his face, smothering him with its hair. "Mmmmph!" he exclaimed, staggering back against the couch. Unable to stop himself, he fell backwards onto the cushions, the cat on top of him. To his surprise and horror, it was licking his face. Was this the part where the domestic animal goes completely insane and eats the unsuspecting uncle? he wondered frantically. He tried pulling the cat from his face, but it clung to him. He finally peeled it off his mouth.

"Goddamn it, stop you," he gasped. "I can't breathe with you on my face."

The cat hissed.

"What are you...doing?" Canada panted, finally managing to free himself. 

"My slave promised me catnip if I distracted you," the cat replied, swishing his tail. Canada felt his blood pressure rise. 

"Oh really? And why did she need to distract me?" he wondered. "It wouldn't have anything to do with the car that just happened to peel out of here, would it?" The cat looked away, seemingly bored of him. "I'll give you catnip and wet food if you tell me where they went and who they went with." Even though he pretty much knew already who they'd run off with. 

"Catnip, wet food and salmon treats," the cat countered, "then we'll talk."

All too easy, Canada thought, smiling grimly. Washington really ought to consider a more loyal sidekick. He went to the kitchen, and nearly tripped over the cat as it weaved in and out of his legs. He waited patiently as the cat noisily scarfed down the food and treats. Then, after he'd given the catnip, he watched as it rolled around the living room. Finally, about an hour later, he'd had enough.

"Okay, cat," he announced, "you got your treats and the wet food."

The cat twisted into a horseshoe pose. "Yeah," he said. 

Canada gestured impatiently. "Well?"

Yawning, the cat stretched out and extended all his claws. "'Well', what?"

"What do you mean, 'well what'!? You said you'd tell me what those two were up to if I gave you what you wanted, " Canada shouted, shaking his head. 

The cat scoffed. "I never said anything like that," he informed Canada. "I said we'd talk. We're talking. You think I'd give up my slave's confidence for salmon treats and wet food?" He laughed mockingly. "Didn't anyone ever tell you never trust a talking cat?"

"No," Canada growled. He made to grab the cat, but it darted out of his way. "Get back here!" The cat yowled as he chased it, but it was too fast for him. It raced up the stairs and into Washington's room, where it slammed the door just as Canada reached it.

"Fine, you little bastard," Canada shouted. "Stay in there forever for all I care! You little menace!" Panting, he pounded on the door. "I'll never feed you again! If Kate isn't here you'll just starve!" He glanced towards the stairs and did a double take, realizing that Washington was standing there staring at him, looking confused and worried. 

She held a very smug cat in her arms. 

"What...it...how?" Canada demanded. She cringed, looking embarrassed. 

"Well, uh...he jumped out the window. We forgot our camping stuff, so we had to come back. Uh...can Den and Francis come in for a minute?"

"You and your sister are supposed to be grounded," he reminded her. She gave him a pleading look. He sighed loudly. "All right, but just for a minute. You little hellspawn," he added, glaring at the cat.

"Mee-oww," the cat sneered back.

"I hate you," Canada mouthed as Washington walked past him.

The cat waited until she wasn't looking and then flipped him off.

Canada gritted his teeth. "Katrina, do you still want that puppy you asked for when you were little?"

"Fuck you," the cat hissed, swiping at his leg. When Washington came back out of her room, it jumped onto her shoulder. 

"Haha, sorry about that, Uncle Matt. He's just a sweet little thing once you get to know him. And you'll have all weekend with just the two of you! Won't that be nice?"

The cat bared its fangs and Canada shook his head weakly. "No," he insisted. "It won't."

Washington laughed again. "You're hilarious like that! Okay, we'll be back in a few days. Have fun!" She bounded down the stairs and the four hellions boiled out of the house. Canada looked down at the cat.

The cat began to purr.


	10. Bad, Bad, Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When an April Fools prank goes too far.

"Kate! Kate, have you been watching the news?" Oregon screamed. "Come quick!" 

Washington barreled into the room, still talking to Denmark. "I dunno when he's getting home. You wanna...oh my..." She stopped dead in her tracks. The phone fell from her hand and she made no attempt to catch it. "California," she whispered. 

"Kate, I'm starting to feel funny," Oregon said, her voice trembling. "Something really bad is happening."

Washington stared at the screen, her face a mask. "I don't feel anything," she said, softly. "What's happening? Who is that?" she demanded, leaning towards the television. "I've never seen him before." 

Denmark's voice shouted from her phone. "What the fuck is going on?"

Washington fumbled the phone to her face. "Someone's coming ashore! Like invading! Oregon's starting to feel sick, so I think they're heading north. Heading here!"

"No! Kære, leave now! Bring Oregon with you and come here! Don't wait for it to come. Get on a plane now!" he ordered. 

Oregon turned from the laptop, her face deathly pale. "No planes. They're all shut down."

"We can't leave," Washington said in a strange, tight voice. Oregon took a few steps back in alarm. Washington had a frightening look in her usually mischievous grey eyes. "We are trapped here. Our television signal," she added in the same flat, calm voice, "has just gone out. I don't know how much longer I will be able to talk to you." She turned her head as Oregon fainted. "Ope. Oregon just hit the deck. I have to go, Mathias. If Pop calls you, tell him I'm okay."

She lowered the phone and carefully gathered her sister into her arms, carrying her to the couch. Then she calmly and methodically went through the house, raising the storm shutters and collecting all the firearms and ammunition in the place. With the storm shutters and doors in place it would take more than a battering ram to break in, if that was what was happening. She could not feel the panic of her citizens, and part of her couldn't care less that this was happening, but the other part of her remembered her siblings. She had to be gone through to get to Idaho and the rest of the northern interior, and she could make it very unpleasant for whoever this was. By this time her inner sense was telling her North Korea, and she trembled with rage at the thought. Several pictures on the walls rattled briefly as the earthquake rolled through.

Oregon's eyes fluttered open. "Kate, I feel awful. Scared." She felt the tremors and sat up in alarm. "What is that? Are you doing that?" She stared at her sister. "Kate, they aren't here yet, that's you, you're doing it!"

"Yes," Washington said, in her new, calm voice. "I'm doing it." The television rolled and came back into clear picture again, but only for a minute. California had managed to repel most of the North Koreans, the news anchor said, but--the signal went out again. "Daria, do you still feel weird?"

"I feel sick," Oregon said. "My people are scared. Where's Daddy? Why isn't he here?"

The house trembled again, more intensely this time. "So do we still have cell signal? Call Francis, Kate! Oh my God. I have to talk to him."

"Use your phone," Washington said. "I want to keep my line open. Just in case Pop calls."

Oregon looked outside through the small portal America had carved into the house specifically for the barrel of a gun. "But everything looks so normal," she murmured. She thought about how funny it would all be tomorrow, when--

Then her eye happened upon the highest thing on the skyline in her line of sight: Mt. St. Helens. 

"Katie," she began, "the mountain is steaming."

"Really?"

"You'd better stop, Kate," Oregon warned. "You can hurt a lot of people if you aren't careful."

"Well, maybe North Korea should go home then," Washington replied, not looking around.

Oregon swallowed thickly. "Katrina, don't."

Washington smiled. "Don't what? I'm trying to warn him. If he listens, then everyone will be fine. But if he insists, then every single one of my people who gets injured or dies is because of him, not me."

"Oh, Jesus," Oregon whispered. "Kate, think! You'll be hurting me, and Pop, and everyone who's in the path of whatever happens!"

"It won't be because of me, Daria," Washington said, her voice completely devoid of emotion. "Remember who started this bullshit."

Oregon nearly burst into tears. Maybe this was going too far, she thought. "Katrina! We don't even know if he's coming here!"

"No, he's coming, " Washington replied softly. "I can feel it. Funny, huh? I can feel that, but not the effect it has on the people."

"It's not funny, it's awful." Oregon turned away from the sight of the volcano. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, she thought. "Are any of the others going to start up, too?"

"Måske, måske ikke," Washington sighed, and Oregon howled in frustration. 

"Katrina! You can't just do this! At least warn them." She grabbed her sister's hands and gasped at how warm they were. "It's starting! You have to warn the people! There's no way out of Seattle!"

Washington shook her head. "Nope. If there's a way out there is a way in, and we can't have that, can we? Look, I'll try to be fair. I'll warn him, okay? And if he still insists on being a dick, then there's nothing I can do about that. He's chosen his fate."

While Washington attempted to get through to America, Oregon crept out of the room and called Canada. "Uncle Mattie, it's really bad," she whispered. "Katie is completely nuts. I don't know what to do! You have to talk some sense into her!"

"Daria, she's just scared," Canada assured her. "She'll stop when she realizes what's up."

"But what if she doesn't? What if she doesn't calm dow--no, uncle Mattie, she's already calm. I swear, I'm here with her and she's not scared at all! There are earthquakes every five minutes practically."

Canada was silent.

"Uncle Mattie! What should I do?"

He swallowed audibly. "Did you say there are earthquakes?" he asked, his voice alarmingly small.

"Yes! And...and the mountain," she added. Canada inhaled sharply. 

"Daria, which mountain? What's it doing?"

"Mt. St. Helens," Oregon whispered, "and it's just steaming, but I can't see the others from here. I don't want to make her any madder, so could you look online to see if maybe Rainier or...or Baker might be..."

There was a brief silence. Oregon clearly heard Canada say, "Oh, fuck. Oh, no. Daria," he said, coming back on the line, "do you think you can get out of there? It looks like the USGS has detected seismic activity all along the subduction zone."

"I can't! She's already setting up roadblocks."

"Wait," Canada exclaimed, "she's not letting anyone leave? What's wrong with her?" 

Oregon stared through the doorway at Washington. She was standing very still and very straight. Oregon could not quite hear what she was saying as she spoke on the phone, because her back was turned. Who was she talking to? 

Washington appeared in the doorway, her face a mask of rage. "That son of a whore has Pop!" she hissed. "Well, I tried to reason with him. I tried. Now whatever happens is his fault!"

"Katie, no, please," Oregon whispered. She turned away and whispered into the phone, "Uncle Mattie, maybe you should call Daddy and--"

"Get a bag packed," Washington announced. "Denmark's bringing a plane in , and the bastard's not here yet, so we can get out of here. Help me get these guns secured. If the wankstains make it up here, they're not getting their filthy yellow hands on our shit."

Thank God, Oregon thought. Now the people would be safe. "Kate, are you..." Oregon hesitated as she considered what she was asking. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She stashed the rifles into the wall, replaced the panel, and dashed upstairs to pack. Oregon followed her. She still hadn't called France, so as she packed she dialed his number, but it was busy. Then it went to voicemail, so she figured she'd better leave one. 

"Kate, is Denmark flying the plane?" she asked, as she hung up. Washington looked around, flinging something away from her. Oregon narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Are you smoking again?" But she didn't smell any smoke. She'd probably caught her just before she lit it, Oregon thought. "Come on, I'm ready."

As they went outside Oregon was able to see all three of the nearby volcanoes. Rainier and Adams were quiet, but St. Helens smoked ominously. Oregon was immensely relieved that they were leaving. If Washington wasn't here, she couldn't do anything. She suddenly noticed that Washington was staring at her. "What?"

"Nothing," Washington sighed, glancing away. "I just wanted to remember what you look like."

"Stop being weird!"

Washington tilted her head to the side. "I'm not being weird. This situation is weird. Something isn't making sense here, Daria. If we're being invaded, why do we still have internet?"

Oregon hadn't considered that. "I don't know, but it's a good thing we do." She caught something odd in the air and frowned. "Kate, you smell different." 

"No I don't," Washington frowned. Her eyes narrowed. "Daria, remember when Japan tried to come ashore during the war and you were sick for like two days? So why aren't you sick like that right now? They're in Newport."

"What?" Oregon exclaimed. "How do you know that?"

Washington scowled. "You can't feel that? How come I can?"

"Kate, I really don't think--you must be hysterical," Oregon decided. 

"When have I ever been hysterical?"

"I don't know! Why do you smell like that?" Oregon demanded. 

Washington nearly tossed her duffel bag across the ravine. "What the fuck are you talking about? I can't smell anything different! What is it then?"

"Red clover," Oregon said, confused. "No, that's definitely it. I know that smell. Your entire room smelled of it when Denmark helped you paint." She looked very satisfied with herself. "You've just gotten used to it is all!" 

Washington looked at her oddly. "Weirdo," she said, moving a few steps away. "Oh, finally," she added, seeing the airplane banking in from the north. "Uncle Matt is flying us."

Thank God, Oregon thought. As soon as they were able to board, she jumped into the co-pilot seat, much to Washington's irritation. Oregon was glad they had the headsets to communicate, so Washington wouldn't overhear. 

"You got here just in time, Uncle Mattie," she said, giving Washington a stern look. Washington didn't even notice. She was too busy staring out the window to pay any attention to either her sister or uncle. "She was getting ready to do something terrible. Maybe we should tell her."

"Nah, it'll be fine once we get her off the Pacific Rim, Daria." Canada gave her a reassuring smile. "I let Denmark in on it, and he's more than happy to have you guys over for a few days while everyone calms down." Everyone, of course, being Washington. 

"How did you get North Korea to agree to this?" Daria wondered. Canada didn't answer her. As the mild vanilla scent of clover filled the plane, he glanced over at Oregon in confusion. 

"Is that...that's not you," he exclaimed. "Katie? Are you okay?"

Washington's eyes flashed, and Oregon flinched. "Yes! I'm fucking awesome! Why the hell is everyone worried about whether I'm okay?" Canada opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. "Yeah, I know I supposedly smell different." She gave them a threatening look. "Well, bitch is gonna be looking different if he doesn't go home."

"Relax, Katrina," Canada said, firmly. "It'll be fine. You'll see."

"Better shut up," Washington said irritably. Oregon and Canada stared at each other. Never had Washington ever told him to shut up before. And never did eight hours pass so horribly before. By the time they landed in København, Oregon was a nervous wreck. America had already texted her telling her where to take Washington, and Oregon couldn't get there fast enough. In the room were Denmark, France, Russia and the rest of the Nordics. When Russia moved to comfort his дочь, he put his face to her hair and frowned thoughtfully. She still smelled of rain and cedar trees, but there was a foreign sweetness added to it. Not altogether unfamiliar. 

"Washington, do please relax, pieni," Finland said anxiously. He and Denmark exchanged a look over Washington's head. "Perhaps we should see if we can find out what is happening?"

"It won't do any good," Washington said, looking extremely restless. "Папа, let go," she added. "I might accidentally hurt you." Russia backed off a little, throwing a worried look towards the door. What was keeping Amerika?

Canada frowned as he discreetly checked his phone. America was having trouble reaching Kim Il Song, according to his text. 

The floor vibrated, and everyone froze. 

Washington let out a deep breath.

Oregon spoke first. "Katrina, what did you just do?"

"Was that you?" Canada demanded, grabbing her arm. Almost immediately he let go with a horrified gasp as a vicious electric current surged from her and into him. Staring at her, he very suddenly regretted going along with his brother's plot to serve Washington the ultimate trolling prank.

"Mathias," Sweden rumbled, "turn that monitor on so we can see."

It was nothing but static.

The earth trembled again.

"Katie." Oregon wet her lips nervously. "Katie, if we're off the North American plate, you shouldn't be able to do that."

The picture rolled and scrambled, but nothing clear came through. Even the audio was distorted. Finally one word came across: destruction. 

Suddenly everyone's alarm went off, signaling midnight. Just as the door burst open, Denmark finally got a news feed from somewhere in Washington, and he stumbled back from the table, looking absolutely gobsmacked.

America leapt into the room. "April Fool!" He laughed, but nobody else was laughing. They were all staring at the looping camera feed from wherever in Washington the broadcast had been made. North Korea and several of his citizens were unfurling what appeared to be an enormous flag, and they, along with many of Washington's own citizens, were standing on a bridge. 

Behind them stood Mt St Helens, smoking ominously. 

Suddenly, the bridge--and the land surrounding it--heaved, and there was a curious muffling of sound as the volcano exploded. 

It took mere minutes for the blast to flatten the entire ridge, and before the people could flee the bridge, a massive torrent of raging water, swollen with trees and houses, slammed into it, wiping it out. The last thing the feed recorded before looping back was the cloud of ash blasting from the volcano, darkening the sky as it twisted up, with its own lighting cracking through the air. 

Washington turned to America and stared at him, her face terribly blank. "April Fool?" she repeated. Her eyes narrowed. "This is all your fault, you know. I just took out an entire fucking town, you asshole." Her hands smacked against the table, which cracked. "Nice going, Pop. Real smart." Her face finally twisted and darkened with rage. "You fucking idiot!"

The ground rumbled, but much gentler than before. She looked around at all of them, her gaze finally resting on Denmark. "You were all in on this," she accused, and of course, she was correct. "Therefore, you will all bear the responsibility of cleaning up the mess." Then, without another word, but with a final vicious look at Denmark, she turned and left the room.

The door slammed hard behind her, without her even touching it.

A long crack ran up the door jamb to the ceiling. 

"Uh," Denmark began, "I think she's mad."

Canada sat back, frowning thoughtfully at the looping disaster. He saw very plainly that people were killed--right on the bridge, they were swept away--and yet Washington had not even flinched. America, on the other hand, now had a serious burn all over his right arm.

But how had she done it from here, far from the chaos of the Ring of Fire? She had made the very ground beneath them quake, and Denmark was not a nation who had earthquakes. Canada knew very little about personifications bound to the land, but he knew enough to be aware that only one thing could change their range of influence. The same thing that could change the way they smelled.

"Russia," he said, startling everyone, "you and Finland need to go after her."

The rest of them, himself included, had an enormous mess to clean up.


	11. Cream of Corn Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oregon gets a puppy from Idaho. Washington's cat is not pleased.

"Well, it's taken long enough," Canada remarked, coming to stand next to Oregon, "but we're just about finished cleaning up the mess we made Washington make."

"Oh, Uncle Mattie, she's still mad at us," Oregon said, looking distressed. "Daddy still hasn't been able to get her to talk to him. She hasn't even come out of her room."

Canada was shocked. "This whole time? It's been what, six, seven months? What's it now, December? From April to now, she's been in there? If she's not leaving her room, how is she eating?"

Oregon shrugged. "I think she is making Bartholomew bring her food. She put a cat door in the wall." 

"Well, we're almost finished cleaning up," Canada said, "and I think she's overreacting. Papa told me something about her not even wanting to see Denmark, did you know that?"

Oregon winced. "Oooh, that's bad," she shook her head. "Poor guy! Yeah, I have had to take a few messages from him. Well, she has talked to her parents--you know, her real parents. I only know because Bartholomew told me. And he had to act as go-between with Kate and Daddy. Whatever she talked about with them, they also told him, because he and Katie had a really horrible conversation a few nights ago. Poor Bartholomew having to go back and forth like that."

As if on cue, the black cat stalked out onto the deck, walking through the two of them. "My slave wants to talk to you," he said to Oregon. "But only through the door. Come on." He gave Canada a threatening look as Oregon disappeared into the house, and Canada sighed. This wasn't going well at all. Not only was Washington avoiding everyone but she also seemed to eschew accountability for her actions altogether, repeatedly reminding them that if it hadn't been for their extreme stupidity, she wouldn't have had to take action to defend herself, and the rest of them, she never failed to add. The third-degree burn on America's arm had healed, but it had taken nearly six months. He was off running around with England again, leaving Canada in charge of his increasingly uncontrollable nieces. At least Oregon could see reason, he thought. She still got into plenty of trouble, but she did repent--most of the time--when she needed to apologize. 

"Hey yo, Uncle Mattie," a boisterous voice called from the front of the house. He looked around and saw Idaho coming up around the deck. "Is Daria here?"

He held a squirming, cream-colored puppy in his hands.

"She's inside, talking to Washington," Canada said. "Kate is still not talking to us. Her cat is doing the negotiations."

"What, again?" Idaho laughed, shaking his head. "God, I still remember the last time it went down like that. California and his idiotic idea to run a pipeline to get water from her." They both shuddered. "Seriously, that time was scary."

"Well, she's been holed up in her room for months," Canada said. "What is that?" He gestured to the puppy. "What are you doing with a puppy?"

Idaho smiled and held the wriggling puppy up. "My dog had puppies, and I promised her one years ago. It's almost Christmas, so I thought I'd bring it over with the rest of the presents. Wanna help me bring em inside?"

There was a massive pile of colorfully wrapped packages on the front deck.

Bartholomew had finally come back outside, and he sat on the railing, watching them take the boxes in. Then, he saw it.

"Excuse me," he said, as they went back and forth with the presents. "Excuse me, jerk face, but what the hell is that?"

Idaho paused, slightly out of breath. He turned to Bartholomew and smiled as he lifted the puppy out of his pocket. "It's a puppy," he informed the cat.

"I can see that, cretin! Why is it here?" the cat demanded. 

Idaho's smile widened. "It's a surprise for Daria," he replied. Bartholomew hissed.

"Like hell it is! Get that thing away from me. It looks stupid," he snapped. He cringed back as Idaho brought the puppy to sniff him. He hissed again and swatted the puppy with one paw. It yelped.

Canada shook his finger at Bartholomew, but didn't say a word.

Bartholomew hissed again, at Canada this time. They glared at each other. 

"You better take that idiot puppy with you when you leave," the cat warned. "I better not see it in the house."

"Well, then, you're going to have to walk around with your eyes closed," Idaho shrugged, "because he's a present for Daria and he's going to be living here."

"The fuck he will," Bartholomew yowled. The puppy, however, didn't seem to be concerned with how upset he was making the cat. He leaned out and enthusiastically licked Bartholomew's face.

 _"Get off me!"_ the cat screamed, rearing back. He bared his fangs. "Fuck yooouuu," he hissed in his scariest voice.

The door opened and Bartholomew tried to flee indoors, but Oregon came out and shut the door before he could make it inside. "Uncle Mattie," she began, looking extremely upset, "I think you should--" She froze, seeing the puppy in Idaho's arms. "What's going on out here? Clark, is that--"

The puppy began to squeal happily at the sight of a new person, and Oregon squealed back. "Oh my God! He's _sooo cuuute!_ Clark! Is it for me?"

Idaho deposited the bundle of happiness into Oregon's arms. "Early Christmas present," he announced, and Oregon shrieked with joy.

Bartholomew growled. 

"Oh, you silly thing," Oregon chided, raining kisses all over her new best friend. "He's adorable. Don't you think he's adorable, Bartholomew?"

"No! Diiieeee," Bartholomew hissed. He widened his eyes in threat. "Im'a kill yooouuu."

Oregon just laughed and held her puppy in the air. "He is just the cutest little thing in the whole world! What's his name?" 

"He doesn't have one," Idaho shrugged. "I thought I would let you give him a name."

"Ooh, I wonder if he talks," Oregon exclaimed. Then she looked at Canada. "You know any good names? I...oh," she muttered, suddenly looking anxious. "I just remembered. Uncle Mattie, I think you should know that--"

Idaho, looking past Oregon's shoulder at someone coming out the door, suddenly dropped the last of the boxes. "Oh. My. God," he gasped, staring at Washington. Canada turned to see what was going on and slapped his hands to his mouth. Oregon smiled crookedly and held the puppy out to her sister. 

"Look, I got a puppy," she said. Then she looked at Canada. "Yeah, um, I was trying to tell you," she began. Washington scowled at Idaho, who couldn't stop staring. Canada cleared his throat. 

"Katrina," he began. "Katrina, you're...oh my."

He absolutely could not believe it. 

Washington was pregnant. 

America was going to kill them. 


	12. Pork Belly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington and Oregon get jobs at the drugstore. Uncle Matt pays a visit after a night of drinking with Prussia. Washington takes him to lunch.

The first thing Canada was aware of upon waking was that the morning sunlight was much too loud. He had fallen asleep--rather, passed out--in his living room, and when he came to he was on the floor, his face smashed up against the front of his favorite chair. He tried to smack his mouth to get rid of the furry feeling on his tongue, but he didn't have enough spit. As he pulled himself up, he had brief flashes of memory from the night before.

Prussia had stopped by with his brother and a case of beer. They had played high-stakes poker. He dimly recalled winning hand after hand. Before they had gotten too drunk, America had called, and Canada had gloated over his winnings. His brother had laughingly challenged him to a game at his place the next night, after he was home from his seminar, and could he stay with Oregon and Washington today? They weren't going to be home most of the day, America had explained, but he needed someone to keep a close eye on them just until he got back that night.

Today! 

Canada wanted to die. 

Unfortunately, he was all out of cyanide capsules and neither Germany nor Prussia would share any of theirs. How could he be out of everything? He tried to make a mental note to contact Latvia, but it hurt too much, and the scratch of the pen on paper was louder than nails on a chalkboard. 

The shrieking of his phone was nearly too much for him to bear. "Yes..." he whispered.

"Hey, bro!" America screamed in his ear. "Morning! Just wanted to touch bases with you before I head out."

Canada whimpered, but America failed to hear him.

"So the girls are already headed off to work, but they should be back by six o'clock. Didn't I tell you they got jobs? They work at the pharmacy here in town," America brayed.

Pharmacy? Canada couldn't believe his luck. "I'm just getting ready to head out," he managed. "I should be there in an hour." 

America whinnied with laughter. "Welp, no need to hurry," he bellowed. "See ya tonight!"

There was no way he would be able to manage the drive into Seattle, so he did the next best thing and caught the commuter train. It did a continuous loop between Vancouver and Seattle. When the train dropped into the Interbay, Canada finally looked out the window. God, it was beautiful, and it hurt his eyes to look at it. The early morning sun seemed to toss its head against the Olympics, blushing in pink. 

He didn't like to admit it, even to himself, but there was a kind of appealing danger to Washington's beauty--you couldn't quite put your finger on it at first glance, but you definitely knew it was there. It wasn't a vicious kind of danger, or one that openly threatened: a silent menacing, a sidelong glare. If you looked right at it, you couldn't see it. 

The city was already wide awake. Canada wasn't sure which drugstore the girls were working in--he had not thought to ask and couldn't bring himself to look it up. His phone screen made him nauseous. Still, it was easy to figure out. He knew their gestalt signatures as well as his own. So within no time he found himself walking through the door of a corner store. Oregon, stationed at the counter, saw him immediately. 

"Uncle Mattie!" she exclaimed, but he quickly held up his hand to get her to lower her voice. "Oh. You hung over? Sorry," she whispered. "Well, just a minute. Kate's in the back," she added. "You know we can't have her out here."

No, Canada thought wryly. Washington was far too mean (blunt! he corrected himself) for customers. Once she had worked a drive thru at a burger place, and had been immediately sacked after 'helping' a customer make better diet choices. Canada had listened to the recording in mortification. The customer had ordered a Mega Burger with Super Fries and a drink.

Washington had completely ignored the order. "So you'll be getting the romaine salad and a water?"

"That's not what I ordered," the woman protested.

"Look, lady, you _clearly_ don't need that junk," Washington argued.

"You are unbelievably rude! Where's your supervisor?" the woman had demanded. 

Washington raised her voice. "I'm just trying to help you, you fucking bitch!"

It had taken a great deal of negotiation between the store and the customer to prevent the poor woman from suing, but even after being sacked, Washington refused to apologize. Canada had somehow gotten roped into dealing with the fallout, and he tried his best to explain why she shouldn't insult people because of their appearance. 

"I wasn't trying to insult her, Uncle Matt," Washington had insisted. "She got an attitude with me. I was only trying to help her--she clearly needs to make better choices."

Despite explaining that it wasn't her call, Canada was unable to get her to see reason. America suggested they just forget the whole affair, but Canada knew that was a bad idea. She never seemed to learn anything about dealing with sensitive people.

"Who's watching the little one?" he asked, hoping they hadn't left Washington's son alone again. The last time that had happened, the kid had nearly burned the house down. Canada had had to sit down with him and have a discussion on why it was unsafe to use a blowtorch to make toast. 

"Oh! Denmark came to take him to his place for a few weeks," Oregon said. "And Grampa Finland wanted to see him too. You should see how much he's grown! He's like, six now? Well, I'll let you go back there."

He sat down in a chair in the little waiting area next to the consultation room. Washington was in there, talking on the phone. He had to admit that she sounded very professional. But then she hung up the phone and muttered, "Fucking bitch."

The rosy-cheeked pharmacy technician smiled at him and at the woman who was already waiting. "Miss Braginskaya, your ten is here." As she spoke, the woman stood and went into the room a few steps. Washington's back was to the door, and Canada could see that she was examining a small pill in the light.

"Tell her I'm out," she said. 

"But Miss..."

Washington raised her voice. "Tell her I'm out!" She glanced over and saw the confused patient, then gave her a brilliant smile. "There you are. We've been waiting for you."

Canada felt something dark and horrible bubbling up inside him.

Washington offered the woman a seat, then took the technician aside and hissed, "When I tell you to say that I'm out, you go out there and tell them I am out. Don't have these buzzards walk up on me..." 

As she spoke, Canada could see the woman was obviously trying to hear what was being said, and so could the tech, because she gestured with her eyes to Washington that the woman was looking around at them. Washington began to whisper harshly. "If I don't want to see them, I'm not going to see them," she said, then glared at the back of the woman's head and pushed the chair forward abruptly. 

Uh oh, Canada thought, feeling a laugh tickle his throat. God, where were the good painkillers? His head was killing him and if he laughed, he would die. He tried to catch Washington's attention, but she was now focused on her unfortunate client and closed the door of her office. 

"Uncle Mattie," Oregon whispered, "I brought you a shot of whiskey. Don't worry, I went next door to get it. C'mon, it'll help you."

Gratefully he took it, knocking it back and tossing the cup in almost the same movement. He felt better almost instantly. The door to the consultation room opened and Washington came out with a terrified looking woman clinging to her arm.

"I'm not going to tell you not to take this medication, because clearly your doctor diagnosed you with a condition that warrants its prescription, but I am advising you to get a second opinion," she was saying. "You really ought to discuss this with your GP. Not disclosing that you have severe edema in your lower extremities can have fatal consequences when using this medication."

"Now if you hadn't pushed me around like that I never would have noticed it hurt that much," the woman said. "I'll call him right away."

Washington smiled. "You do that, now," she said in as pleasant a voice as she could muster. As the woman walked towards the front of the store Washington mimed smacking the back of her head with her clipboard, then turned to Canada with her regular troublemaker's smile. "How's it goin, Uncle Matt? I hear you had quite the night."

"Katrina, since when do you know anything about pharmacology?" Canada wondered. 

Washington smirked. "Uncle Matt, I've been to University four different times. There isn't much I don't know anything about." She paused. "Although you probably wouldn't want me doing surgery on you."

At this, Canada and Oregon both did double takes at her, and a man coming into waiting room slowly backed out. Washington didn't even notice or seem to care, Canada saw. He thanked Oregon silently for the whiskey, which really had helped. "Well, I'm going to be heading on over to your place," he announced. "Will you be coming home after work?"

"Oh, I will, but Daria won't," Washington replied, almost as an afterthought. "She's going out with Francis, again. Uncle Matt, I thought he had to live in France. But he's here even more than Den is."

Canada frowned. "Well, he does have to live in France, Katrina, but this time of year is hard for him. I usually have him with me for the first few weeks of July. He likes to celebrate your...dad's birthday every year with him, and he'll go home just before Bastille Day."

Oregon looked very busy at the front counter, he noticed suddenly. As he neared the front of the store, he heard Prussia's inimitable laugh. Too late, he turned and ran right into Washington. 

"Whoa there, Uncle Matt," she said, sidestepping and then putting her arm around him. "What's all that racket up there? Is that Herr Awesome und sein wunderschöner Bruder?"

"Well if it isn't the red-haired menace," Prussia cackled, "and Mr. Lushy McDrunk himself!" He gave Washington an appraising look, but she was more interested in what Germany was buying. 

"Say, Herr Ludwig, what are you doing with that lighter fluid and that book? I don't know about this, Daria."

Canada gasped, blood rushing to his face. Germany turned in shock and stared at her, his face white. Washington looked absolutely emotionless, so if Canada didn't know her as well as he did, he would not have been able to tell if she was serious. As it was, she was joking, but Germany and Prussia would have no way to know that. 

"Take his fingerprints before you sell that accelerant," she told Oregon. Then she turned and went back to the pharmacy. Oregon shook her head in mortification. 

"Guys, I'm really sorry about that," she said. "God, she's terrible. Of course you don't have to give your fingerprints," she assured a very annoyed Germany. Luckily, Oregon's manners and wholesome beauty won him over, and by the time he and Prussia left the store, he was in a much better mood.

"Tell your awesome Schwester that if she ever gets tired of Denmark, the awesome me is available," Prussia leered, and Germany pushed him out the door.

"Bruder! Stop that nonsense. Washington and Denmark are very happy with each other." He gave Canada a sympathetic look and followed his brother out. Oregon rolled her eyes and laughed. 

"Well that was interesting," she remarked. "I wonder what they're doing here."

Washington came through with an armload of folders. "Oh, they're here for the Fourth of July," she said. "Pop called last night while you were out to let me know. They are staying with you, right Uncle Matt?"

"Yes. So will your little one be back in time? That only gives him a week with his Papa and the family." Canada raised an eyebrow. "He's never missed a fireworks display."

"No, and he won't," Washington assured him. "He's not going to be back until after, but Den has the Rebild celebration every year, remember?"

How could I forget, Canada wondered. It was during one of these festivals when Washington and Denmark had first met. She had been a little one then, but just as inclined to get into trouble as she was now. Back then, it had been even worse. Somehow, she had convinced Denmark to let her shoot an arrow at an apple on his head, while blindfolded. And not only was she blindfolded, but so was he. Instead of being scared that she would miss, he had been so excited that he couldn't stand still, but she had done it anyway and the apple was destroyed. After that, they were inseparable for the rest of the time America was in Denmark. She became his constant companion. Back home, while they caused mischief in Scandinavia, the Danish population in her lands exploded. Canada had been a little concerned, but America had been thrilled, and he had never expected her to grow up as fast as she did so he had not considered the possibility that the two of them would become intimate. Not even when she suddenly appeared in Chicago having grown up practically overnight. Looking back on that, Canada realized that Denmark had shown admirable restraint and decorum. Maybe he was more mature than people thought.

"I just hafta finish shredding these and then we can go have lunch, Uncle Matt," Washington said. "Francis is taking Daria out--hey, kid, put that back," she snapped, her spidey sense alerting her to a would-be shoplifter. The poor kid didn't stand a chance. When he tried to shove a candy display at her, she caught it and shoved it back, knocking him flat on his back.

"Katie," Canada began, warningly. Washington huffed and rolled her eyes as she stepped over the pile of candy. Then she carefully grabbed the kid's shirt and hauled him to his feet. Before he could even recover from the shock of being bulldozed, she propelled him out the door. At the last minute, she shoved, so he went sprawling. 

"Katie!" Oregon exclaimed, trying not to laugh. Both girls began to giggle as they busied themselves clearing up the candy. Washington finally gave in and said what was on both their minds.

"Candy Mountain. It's Candy Mountain, Daria."

Once they had eaten half the candy, they got the rest of it cleaned up and it was now time for lunch. Oregon flew off on France's arm, and Canada waited patiently as Washington took the folders over to the shredder. Although Oregon had turned the sign on the door to signify that the store was closed for lunch, the bell over the door jingled as a customer came in.

Washington didn't even acknowledge her.

"Excuse me," the elderly woman began, "do you--"

The shredder tore into the paper, drowning her out. When it stopped, the woman began again. "Do you have--"

Washington fed another folder into the machine. 

"Miss! Do you have any of that --"

The shredder grated through the stack. By this time the woman was furious. She didn't wait for Washington to stop. Screwing up her face, she bellowed, "I need Preparation H!"

Just as she said that, Washington turned off the shredder. "Yes, I can see that," she remarked calmly. "But you're going to have to wait until we are open. It's the lunch hour." She tapped on the window. "Sign says right here. Do you need new glasses, too?"

Stunned, the woman followed them out the door. "But this is the only drugstore I like," she said. "What am I supposed to do?"

"I dunno, wait an hour?" Washington locked the door and smiled at Canada, putting her arm through his. "There's a bench, if you'd like to park it and wait. Oh," she added, "maybe not sit down. We'll be back in an hour," she promised and she walked Canada down the street before snickering.

"Told her to sit down after she said she needs Preparation H," she laughed. "I just have to go deposit my paycheck, Uncle Matt."

The downtown branch was the flagship bank, so the building was one of the oldest in the city. "I remember when they built this," Washington muttered to Canada as they went inside. It was cooler inside than the hot summer day, and hushed so even their low voices echoed. "This is still the best building in the city." She bellied up to the teller and gave her a most charming smile. The teller beamed back, obviously well acquainted with her. The badge on her blouse said Frida.

"Why good afternoon, Miss Braginskaya," Frida said. "Is it Friday already? Wow, it just flies, doesn't it?"

"Yep," Washington agreed, whipping out her wallet. She pulled the check from her billfold. "I'd like to deposit this, please." She scrawled her signature on the back and pushed it across for Frida to take.

Canada gasped. She had made how much? 

"You want any out, or to deposit the whole thing?"

"I'm good," Washington said. "The whole thing is fine."

"Katrina," Canada hissed.

"So how's little Ejnar?" Frida asked as she entered all the numbers in. Washington smiled. 

"He's good. He's with his dad. They're in Denmark visiting Mathias' family," she said, easily. "All set?"

Frida handed her a receipt with a flourish. "You're all good to go. Have a great weekend! Don't forget to bring Ejnar in when he gets back," she added. "I have more pictures to show him."

As they went out the revolving door, Canada hissed in her ear, "Your paycheck was five thousand dollars!? How is that even possible? It has to be a mistake."

Washington gave him a smug look. "Pop said now that we were both working, we could be the ones bringing home the bacon. So I decided that I would take it up a notch and make it Flæskesteg."

Alarm bells went off in Canada's mind. "What do you mean, take it up a notch?" he asked, unsure if he really wanted to know. She smirked.

"Easy! I went into the manager's office while he was out front fighting with a group of Karens, got into the payroll account, and just added a few zeros to my pay rate," she said. "He still hasn't noticed. It's been weeks."

"Katrina! What if you get caught?" he exclaimed, jealous that he had never done that sort of thing when he worked.

"I won't. No proof," she pointed out. "Hey, let's go to Ivar's. On me, of course." It was their usual place, so they had a regular table inside, but it was such a nice day that both of them wanted to sit outdoors. They had to fight with a seagull throughout the meal. Canada finally caught it by the legs and tossed it over the roof. 

There was a faint shattering sound.

"So, do you think that Fran...cis and Daria will have kids?" Washington wondered. "I mean, Pop said something about that. About how since it didn't kill him when I had a baby it probably wouldn't be too bad if she did. But I dunno," she added. "I mean, I'm just one of fifty. If all of us had kids I'm pretty sure that would be a problem. Don't you think?"

"I don't even want to think about that, Kate," Canada shuddered. "Do you know what that would even mean?"

From somewhere on the other side of the restaurant, someone screamed. "Oh my God! My windscreen!"

"My niece would be the mother of my own sister," Canada pointed out as people ran over to the car park to see what the fuss was about. "That's just too much like father uncle."

"Hmmm. You're right," Washington said. "Well it's about time we got back." They made their way through the crowd around the unfortunate car. The windscreen was completely obliterated, and the front seat of the car was streaked with gore and feathers. "Wow, that looks bad," she said. "I wonder what happened."

"No idea," Canada shrugged. They stopped and smiled at each other.

Then they ran the rest of the way back to the pharmacy. 


	13. Here Comes Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, Uncle Matthew is roped into taking Oregon, her nephew and Prussia to the State Fair.  
> What could go wrong?

"Okay, Daria, are you sure you're going to be all right minding Ejnar?" Washington asked, as she shrugged into a hoodie. "I mean, I've never left him with you before. You're sure?"

Oregon scoffed. "Of course I am. C'mon, how hard can it be? You do it every day."

"Yes, but I'm his mother," Washington pointed out. "He's going to try you, Daria. Trust me. Didn't you hear what he did to Norway?" 

Oregon had heard. Along with everyone else in their social circle. "I'm not worried," she promised. "It's me! Awesome Aunt Daria." 

Washington rolled her eyes. "You've been hanging out with France's friends way too much," she told Oregon. "Well, listen, I'll be back in a week. But I might stay over longer. There's a lot to do in København and a week maybe won't be long enough. God, I promised Ejnar I'd take him to the fair, though." She shook her head and rummaged her purse for her boarding pass. "All right, I'm off. Lille bjørn!" she called. "Kom sige hej hej!"

The house shook with the little one's thundering footsteps. He barreled down the stairs and jumped into his mother's arms. "Farvel," he exclaimed. "I'll miss you, Mamma. Give a big kiss to Pappa and Bedstefar and Uncle Norge and Island and Uncle Sverige."

"And you be a good boy for Aunt Daria," Washington said, firmly. "Jeg elsker dig."

He smiled. "I'll be good," he said. He dragged Oregon to the door and waved vigorously as she got into the waiting Uber. They waved until they could no longer see it driving away, and then they stood on the front deck and looked at each other. 

"What do you want to do?" Oregon asked. His face lit up.

"Let's prank the Chinese restaurant!" he said. He ran inside and got her phone. "Here, you call them first."

"Oh, wait," Oregon paused as she began to dial. "I think this is the same one that...yeah, we can't call from my phone," she said, listening to the message. "They blocked me a long time ago. We'll have to call a different one."

But it turned out that every Chinese restaurant in town had already been pranked by both of them, so they were all wise to the game. Despondent, they sat on the couch, frowning unhappily. Then he turned to her, his grey eyes sparkling. "Let's call Uncle Mattie! I bet he'd come over." He grabbed her phone and video-called Canada's number. Prussia answered, much to Oregon's surprise. 

"Mathias! Why are you smol?" he demanded. In the background, Canada looked over his shoulder.

"Gil, that's not Mathias," he said.

"That's my pappa," the boy said. "I'm Ejnar."

Prussia looked no less confused. "But what are you, then? Are you an island? A city?"

"Give me that," Oregon sighed, taking the phone from him. "Gilbert, he's Washington's. He's the Olympic Peninsula. I think?" She looked down at him and he nodded.

"Well what the hell," Prussia said. 

"Okay, Gil, whatever," Oregon said. "Can I speak to Uncle Mattie?"

"Get me a date with your sister and then we'll see."

Canada heard him. "Gilbert!" he scolded. "When will you stop with that? It will never happen. Now give--" he grabbed his phone away from Prussia. "Hey Daria, hey Ejnar. What's going on?"

Ejnar pulled Oregon's arms. The Olympic Peninsula was like his mother--much stronger than he looked. He brought the phone to his face. "Onkel Mattie, can you come over? Mamma went to go see Pappa. Aunt Daria and I are bored."

Behind Canada, Prussia stared at the screen over his shoulder. "It's totally awesome how much the little brat looks like Den," he exclaimed. "They'd be twins if he had blue eyes."

"I have grey eyes," Ejnar called as Oregon took the phone back. "Yours are red! That's really awesome!"

"I like you, brat," Prussia said, proudly. 

Canada rolled his eyes. "Hey, Ejnar, don't get Uncle Gilbert started with how awesome he is," he advised. "Look, kiddo, I can't come over today, because I have company and we already made plans, but how about Monday?"

"Yes," Ejnar said. "That's Opening Day!"

"Opening Day for what?" Canada wondered. 

Ejnar wrestled the phone away once more, but this time Oregon didn't mind. "Only the most best fair ever, the Washington State Fair," he declared. "Will you take us?"

Before Canada could answer him, Prussia grabbed the phone back. "A fair? That sounds awesome! Of course he'll take us," he practically screamed. "It'll be a blast!"

"Wait," Canada began, but Prussia and Ejnar were already planning their itinerary for the fair. He turned away and sighed deeply. He was taking this too seriously, he decided. What could it hurt to spend the day at the State Fair? It _was_ an awesome fair, the largest in the West. Not even Oregon's Country Fair was as well-attended. And it was kind of sweet to see Prussia interact with Washington's son. Every once in a while he would exclaim to Canada just how much like Denmark the boy looked, even the same wild blond hair. The only difference was his eye color. 

"See you Monday, little bratwurst," Prussia declared, and they ended their hour-long call. Canada couldn't believe that a child-personification would even have the capacity to hold a conversation with Prussia, let alone talk for an entire hour. Prussia might be a little on the immature side when it came to pulling pranks, but he was actually extremely intelligent. Canada also had to remind himself that this wasn't just any child; he was Washington's. When it came to intellect she was one of the tops, even if she did take the idea of self-government a little too seriously for America's liking. Both Russia and Finland had great minds and their contributions to her wealth of knowledge was considerable. And she had been around much longer than many of the others, even Oregon and California. She knew obscure little morsels of history that many would have forgotten if she hadn't been there to remind everyone. Japan in particular was most unappreciative. The two of them had a permanent unfriendly rivalry to this day. But when it came down to it, Washington simply couldn't stop learning. Naturally any child of hers would also benefit. 

Canada supposed it couldn't be too bad, but he did think the weekend passed much too quickly. First thing Monday morning he and Prussia took the train down to Seattle, where Oregon was waiting to pick them up. Ejnar was at her side, looking impatient. When he saw Canada, he roared with joy and barrel-rushed him.

"Onkel Mattie! Mamma called this morning," he announced. "I told her you're taking us to the fair. Hi," he added, turning to look at Prussia. "When I talked to Mamma she said to give you this." He leaned over and kissed Prussia's cheek. "And you, too, Onkel Mattie," he said, giving Canada a kiss too. 

Prussia laughed, his eyes gleaming. "Well, it's something," he admitted. "So, let's get going! We don't want to miss a thing!"

"Onkel Gilbert, we have to have lellefant ears," Ejnar insisted. "For breakfast! And funnel cakes and wurst for lunch. And æbleskiver."

"I love lellefant ears!" Prussia said, matching the little one's excited tone. He lifted the boy up onto his shoulders with ease, causing Canada to wonder about his supposed 'ex' nation status. Oregon stayed at his side, watching the two of them curiously. 

"I never noticed how ripped Prussia is," she mused. "But he just picked up the Olympic Peninsula with one arm. You know how heavy he is. Even Daddy is a little concerned about it. Y'know, because how strong Washington was as a little one. If he's as destructive as she is--"

"I don't get that sense from him, Daria," Canada assured her. "He's just a strong little guy. More like Denmark than her. And that's a good thing, as much as I can't believe I'm saying it. "

"Uncle Mattie, I'm really sorry if it weirds you out when I'm with France," Oregon said. "We really do enjoy each other's company. Uh, what?" she wondered, looking around. "Oh, no! Where did they go?"

"My God, it's too early for this," Canada sighed. Luckily, he spotted them close by, buying ride tokens. It never failed to warm Canada's heart when the girls were little and he'd take them to a Fair; although they could attend any Fair in America without paying a dime, they always bought their rides and food, supporting their people. Prussia wasn't even batting an eye at forking over the dough. It suddenly occurred to Canada that an awful lot of Germans lived in the Northwest. Maybe they had gotten the goodwill tendencies from Prussia.

Goodwill tendencies? Canada nearly burst out laughing. There were still several of their own family who referred to Washington and Oregon as the "Terror Sisters". 

"We'd better not let them out of our sight," Canada said firmly. By this time he was already struggling to keep up with the two of them. Oregon gave him a sympathetic look.

"I have an idea," she said. "We could ride the Ferris wheel and that way we can see them where ever they end up. Plus I could keep an eye out for France! He just texted me. He said he was looking for you so I told him where we are and he said he was on his way."

"Oh, shit," Canada exclaimed. "I completely forgot that Papa is coming. Damn it. Well, he's coming from Toronto, so I don't think he'll be here today. God, I totally spaced it!" 

Oregon looked around and gasped again. "Jesus, they're fast," she said. "Now where are they?"

"No, Daria, I'm sure they're fine," Canada said. "Look, neither of us will be able to enjoy ourselves if we keep worrying about where they are. Come on and we'll have a go on the Ferris wheel." He knew it would only be a matter of time before they popped up somewhere, most likely having caused some form of mischief. As they settled into their seat, he kept his eyes on the target range. Prussia would go there first. 

But after three rides on the Ferris wheel he still had not seen them. It was beginning to worry him, and just as he turned to Oregon to suggest they actually go looking for the two of them, three giggling girls took the seat in front of them. 

"Oh my God, like check this out, Kylie," one of the girls said, whipping out her phone. "We totally got this awesome video."

The second girl laughed. "Seriously, I was literally dying when I saw what they were doing."

Oregon scoffed. Under her breath she muttered, "Then how are you even sitting there, you dumb bitch?" Then she got a glimpse of the video. "Uncle Mattie!"

The girls began to chant as they watched the video that clearly showed Prussia holding Ejnar by his ankles and slowly lowering him into a narrow enclosure: 

"Don't be suspicious, don't be suspicious...don't be suspicious, don't be--"

"Hey!" Oregon exclaimed. "Guys! Where are those two? Where'd you take that video?"

The girls looked up, startled. "Over by the rodeo," the first one said. She glanced down at the phone again. "Oh my God I totally can't believe he actually got that out of there. Look, he's holding it in his hand. How is that guy even able to just haul him up like that?"

"Look at that kid's hair! My stupid brother is always trying to get his hair to do that," the second girl said.

Canada was utterly speechless. As soon as the ride came to a stop he grabbed Oregon and raced towards the rodeo. But it was too late. Prussia met them at the stands, beaming. 

"He's going to blow these kids out of the arena," he bragged. Canada gasped as the young bulls were led to the ring and the riders got on. One by one they tested their mettle, each taking a brutal pounding. Soon it was Ejnar's turn. His name was announced, and the announcer actually pronounced it properly, much to Canada's surprise. Usually nobody got the accent quite right. Canada almost couldn't watch as the little one rode around the ring on an annoyed bullock, but Prussia yelled just as loud as everyone else, if not louder, until the time was up. Ejnar hadn't been thrown and he was still seated on the little bull's back. Most likely he would be declared the winner, Canada thought. A good thing, too, because if he'd gotten injured, Canada didn't know how he'd explain it to Washington. 

"Whoa, dudes! That was so cool," America was bellowing as he hurried over. He never missed an opening day of any State Fair. "That was really awesome, little guy," he added, as Ejnar shot over to them. He wasn't on the bull now.

"Onkel Gilbert, that was so much fun," he said, scrambling onto the rail. "I don't even care who wins. Why didn't Mamma ever let me do this?" He turned back to watch the final rider who seemed to be in trouble. Sure enough, fifteen seconds in, he was tossed to the ground. 

"Wait," America shouted, as Ejnar jumped down and raced to his rodeo pal's aid. "Don't!" Ejnar paused and Canada realized that the boy had been preparing to seize the animal by its ears and toss it out of the arena. To do so would have been dangerous not only because people would ask questions but Ejnar could still get hurt. Instead of grabbing it, Ejnar changed his stance and the bullock slammed into him, unable to knock him down. A gasp went through the stands as Ejnar held the bull off with his chest and hands, only moving backwards just a tiny fraction. America helped the fallen kid to his feet, and Canada's phone rang.

It was Washington. 

"Yes?" he answered innocently. 

"Uncle Matt, what is my son doing right now?" Washington demanded.

"We're at the fair," Canada replied. She scowled at him, clearly not buying the clueless act.

"Yeah, no shit you're at the fair. Where's Ejnar?"

Prussia, having heard her voice, snatched the phone from Canada. "Check this out, Birdie!" he yelled, turning the phone so that the camera faced Ejnar and the bull. The bull now was slowly but surely being pushed into the corral by a very determined Ejnar. "Your boy is awesome!"

"Uncle Matt, what the hell is going on?" Washington asked. "Why is he handling that bullock? Get him out of there before people start recording this! Fuck it, too late," she sighed. She turned to Denmark, who was staring over her shoulder. "Are you seeing this?"

"I gotta go," Canada said, before Denmark could react. "Can't hear a word. You're all static." Ejnar, victorious over the bull, went to ask the other boy if he was all right, and the announcer declared him the winner. But Ejnar didn't care.

"Here!" He thrust the little metal cup and ribbon towards the other. "It was easy for me, but you worked really hard and you stayed on a long time!" Canada finally hustled him out of there, cringed inwardly at the number of phones that had obviously recorded the whole thing, and briefly considered reaching into his pocket for the little leather pouch containing his cyanide capsules. Surely it couldn't be so terrible. After all, there were only about 20,000 people here and only about 1% of them were at the arena.

That was still 200 people.

200 people who likely all had cameras.

 _Fuck_. 

Where were they _now?_ Canada screamed to himself, realizing that he and Oregon were once again alone. 

And this time America was with Prussia too.

Washington was going to kill them.


End file.
